'      !'   ' 

.-         /:...- 


AM  ; 


BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 


BY  MRS.ATHERTON 

HISTORICAL 

CALIFORNIA:  An  Intimate  History 

THE  CONQUEROR 

A  FEW  OF  HAMILTON'S  LETTERS 

FICTION 
CALIFORNIA  SERIES 

BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME,  Containing  REZANOV  [1806] 

and  THE  DOOMS  WOMAN  [1840JJ 
THE  SPLENDID  IDLE  FORTIES  [1800-46] 
A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  VINE  [The  Sixties] 
AMERICAN  WIVES  AND  ENGLISH  HUSBANDS  [The  Eighties] 
THE  CALIFORNIANS  [The  Eighties] 

A  WHIRL  ASUNDER  [The  Nineties] 
ANCESTORS  [Present] 

THE  VALIANT  RUNAWAYS:  A  Book  for  Boys  [1840] 

FICTION  STUDIES  OF  OTHER  PARTS 
OF  THE  WORLD 

PERCH  OF  THE  DEVIL  [Montana] 

TOWER  OF  IVORY  [Munich] 

JULIA  FRANCE  AND  HER  TIMES  [B.W.  1.  and  England] 

RULERS  OF  KINGS  [Austria,  Hungary  and  the  Adirondacks] 

THE  TRAVELLING  THIRDS  [Spain] 

THE  GORGEOUS  ISLE  [Nevis,  B.W.I.] 

SENATOR  NORTH  [Washington] 

PATIENCE  SPARHAWK  AND  HER  TIMES  [Monterey,  California, 

and  New  York] 
THE  ARISTOCRATS  [The  Adirondacks] 

MRS.  PENDLETON'S  FOUR-IN-HAND  [New  York] 

THE  BELL  IN  THE  FOG :  Short  Stories  of  Various  Climes  and 
Phases 


BEFORE   THE 
GRINGO  CAME 

("REZANOV'ond  "THE  DOOMSWOMAN") 


GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 

cc 


Copyright,  1915,  by 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1893,  1906,  1913,  by 
GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 

Att  rights  reserved 


tfv  &  2  <? 
Bancroft  LJbnuy 


TO 

DELFINA  DE  LA  GUERRA  Y  MORENO 

A  FRIEND   WHOM  I  GREATLY  ADMIRE 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

REZ!NOV 1 

THE  DOOMSWOMAN  .  199 


REZANOV 


REZANOV 


As  the  little  ship  that  had  three  times  raced  with  death 
sailed  past  the  gray  headlands  and  into  the  straits  of 
San  Francisco  on  that  brilliant  April  morning  of  1806, 
Rezanov  forgot  the  bitter  humiliations,  the  mental  and 
physical  torments,  the  deprivations  and  dangers  of  the 
past  three  years;  forgot  those  harrowing  months  in  the 
harbor  of  Nagasaki  when  the  Russian  bear  had  caged 
his  tail  in  the  presence  of  eyes  aslant;  his  dismay  at 
Kamchatka  when  he  had  been  forced  to  send  home  an- 
other to  vindicate  his  failure,  and  to  remain  in  the 
Tsar's  incontiguous  and  barbarous  northeastern  posses- 
sions as  representative  of  his  Imperial  Majesty,  and 
plenipotentiary  of  the  Company  his  own  genius  had 
created ;  forgot  the  year  of  loneliness  and  hardship  and 
peril  in  whose  jaws  the  bravest  was  impotent;  forgot 
even  his  pitiable  crew,  diseased  when  he  left  Sitka,  that 
had  filled  the  Juno  with  their  groans  and  laments;  and 
the  bells  of  youth,  long  still,  rang  in  his  soul  once  more. 
"It  is  the  spring  in  California/'  he  thought,  with  a 
sigh  that  curled  at  the  edge.  *  However/'  life  had 
made  him  philosophical;  "the  moments  of  unreasonable 
happiness  are  the  most  enviable  no  doubt,  for  there  is 
neither  gall  nor  satiety  in  the  reaction.  All  this  is  as 
enchanting  as — well,  as  a  woman's  promise.  What  lies 
beyond?  Illiterate  and  mercenary  Spaniards,  vicious 
natives,  and  boundless  ennui,  one  may  safely  wager. 
But  if  all  California  is  as  beautiful  as  this,  no  man  that 
has  spent  a  winter  in  Sitka  should  ask  for  more." 


2      BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

In  the  extent  and  variety  of  his  travels  Rezanov 
had  seen  Nature  more  awesome  of  feature  but  never 
more  fair.  On  his  immediate  right  as  he  sailed  down 
the  straits  toward  the  narrow  entrance  to  be  known  as 
the  Golden  Gate,  there  was  little  to  interest  save  the 
surf  and  the  masses  of  outlying  rocks  where  the  seals 
leapt  and  barked ;  the  shore  beyond  was  sandy  and  low. 
But  on  his  left  the  last  of  the  northern  mountains  rose 
straight  from  the  water,  the  warm  red  of  its  deeply  in- 
dented cliffs  rich  in  harmony  with  the  green  of  slope 
and  height.  There  was  not  a  tree;  the  mountains,  the 
promontories,  the  hills  far  down  on  the  right  beyond 
the  sand  dunes,  looked  like  stupendous  waves  of  lava 
that  had  cooled  into  every  gracious  line  and  fold  within 
the  art  of  relenting  Nature;  granted  ages  after,  a  light 
coat  of  verdure  to  clothe  the  terrible  mystery  of  birth. 
The  great  bay,  as  blue  and  tranquil  as  a  high  mountain 
lake,  as  silent  as  if  the  planet  still  slept  after  the 
agonies  of  labor,  looked  to  be  broken  by  a  number  of 
promontories,  rising  from  their  points  far  out  in  the 
water  to  the  high  back  of  the  land;  but  as  the  Juno 
pursued  her  slanting  way  down  the  channel  Rezanov 
saw  that  the  most  imposing  of  these  was  but  the  end  of 
a  large  island,  and  that  scattered  near  were  other  islands, 
masses  of  rock  like  the  castellated  heights  that  rise 
abruptly  from  the  plains  of  Italy  and  Spain;  far  away, 
narrower  straits,  with  a  glittering  expanse  beyond; 
while  bounding  the  whole  eastern  rim  of  this  splendid 
sheet  of  water  was  a  chain  of  violet  hills,  with  the  pale 
green  mist  of  new  grass  here  and  there,  and  purple  hol- 
lows that  might  mean  groves  of  trees  crouching  low 
against  the  cold  winds  of  summer ;  in  the  soft  pale  blue 
haze  above  and  beyond,  the  lofty  volcanic  peak  of  a 
mountain  range.  Not  a  human  being,  not  a  boat,  not 
even  a  herd  of  cattle  was  to  be  seen,  and  Rezanov,  for  a 
moment  forgetting  to  exult  in  the  length  of  Russia's 
arm,  yielded  himself  to  the  subtle  influence  abroad  in 
the  air,  and  felt  that  he  could  dream  as  he  had  dreamed 
in  a  youth  when  the  courts  of  Europe  to  the  boy  were 


REZANOV  3 

as  fabulous  as  El  Dorado  in  the  immensity  of  ancestral 
seclusions. 

"It  is  like  the  approach  to  paradise,  is  it  not,  Excel- 
lency?" a  deferential  voice  murmured  at  his  elbow. 

The  plenipotentiary  frowned  without  turning  his 
head.  Dr.  Langsdorff,  surgeon  and  naturalist,  had  ac- 
companied the  Embassy  to  Japan,  and  although  Rezanov 
had  never  found  any  man  more  of  a  bore  and 
would  willingly  have  seen  the  last  of  him  at  Kam- 
chatka, a  skilful  dispenser  of  drugs  and  mender  of 
bones  was  necessary  in  his  hazardous  voyages,  and  he 
retained  him  in  his  suite.  Langsdorff  returned  his  polite 
tolerance  with  all  the  hidden  resources  of  his  spleen; 
but  his  curiosity  and  scientific  enthusiasm  would  have 
sustained  him  through  greater  trials  than  the  exactions 
of  an  autocrat,  whom  at  least  he  had  never  ceased  to 
respect  in  the  most  trying  moments  at  Nagasaki. 

"Yes,"  said  Rezanov.  "But  I  wonder  you  find  any- 
thing to  admire  in  such  importable  objects  as  moun- 
tains and  water.  I  have  not  seen  a  living  thing  but 
gulls  and  seals,  and  God  knows  we  had  enough  of  both 
at  Sitka." 

"Ah,  your  excellency,  in  a  land  as  fertile  as  this,  and 
caressed  by  a  climate  that  would  coax  life  from  a  stone, 
there  must  be  an  infinite  number  of  aquatic  and  aerial 
treasures  that  will  add  materially  to  the  scientific  lore 
of  Europe." 

* '  Humph ! ' '  said  Rezanov,  and  moved  his  shoulder  in 
an  uncontrollable  gesture  of  dismissal.  But  the  spell 
of  the  April  morning  was  broken,  although  the  learned 
doctor  was  not  to  be  the  only  offender. 

The  Golden  Gate  is  but  a  mile  in  width  and  the  swift 
current  carried  the  Juno  toward  a  low  promontory  from 
the  base  of  which  a  shrill  cry  suddenly  ascended.  Reza- 
nov, raising  his  glass,  saw  what  he  had  taken  to  be  a 
pile  of  fallen  rocks  was  a  fort,  and  that  a  group  of 
excited  men  stood  at  its  gates.  Once  more  the  plenipo- 
tentiary on  a  delicate  mission,  he  ordered  the  two  naval 


4      BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

officers  sailing  the  ship  to  come  forward,  and  retired  to 
the  dignified  isolation  of  the  cabin. 

The  high-spirited  young  officers,  who  would  have 
raised  a  gay  hurrah  at  the  sight  of  civilized  man  had  it 
not  been  for  the  awe  in  which  they  held  their  chief, 
saluted  the  Spaniards  formally,  then  stood  in  an  atti- 
tude of  extreme  respect;  the  Juno  was  directly  under 
the  guns  of  the  fort. 

One  of  the  Spaniards  raised  a  speaking  trumpet  and 
shouted : 

"Who  are  you?" 

No  one  on  the  Juno,  save  Rezanov,  could  speak  a  word 
of  Spanish,  but  the  tone  of  the  query  was  its  own  in- 
terpreter. The  oldest  of  the  lieutenants,  through  the 
ship 's  trumpet,  shouted  back : 

"The  Juno—Sitka— Russian." 

The  Spanish  officer  made  a  peremptory  gesture  that 
the  ship  come  to  anchor  in  the  shelter  given  by  an  im- 
mense angle  of  the  mainland,  of  which  the  fort's  point 
was  the  western  extreme.  The  Russians,  as  befitted  the 
peaceful  nature  of  their  mission,  obeyed  without  delay. 
Before  their  resting  place,  and  among  the  sand  hills  a 
mile  from  the  beach,  was  a  quadrangle  of  buildings 
some  two  hundred  feet  square  and  surrounded  by  a  wall 
about  fourteen  feet  high  and  seven  feet  thick.  This 
they  knew  to  be  the  Presidio.  They  saw  the  officers  that 
had  hailed  them  gallop  over  the  hill  behind  the  fort  to 
the  more  ambitious  enclosure,  and,  in  the  square,  confer 
with  another  group  that  seemed  to  be  in  a  corresponding 
state  of  excitement.  A  few  moments  later  a  deputa- 
tion of  officers,  accompanied  by  a  priest  in  the  brown 
habit  of  the  Franciscan  order,  started  on  horseback  for 
the  beach.  Rezanov  ordered  Lieutenant  Davidov  and 
Dr.  Langsdorff  to  the  shore  as  his  representatives. 

The  Spaniards  wore  the  undress  uniform  of  black  and 
scarlet  in  which  they  had  been  surprised,  but  their 
peaked  straw  hats  were  decorated  with  cords  of  gold  or 
silver,  the  tassels  hanging  low  on  the  broad  brim ;  their 
high  deer-skin  boots  were  gaily  embroidered,  and  bris- 


REZANOV  5 

tied  with  immense  silver  spurs.  The  commanding  officer 
alone  had  invested  himself  with  a  gala  serape,  a  square 
of  red  cloth  with  a  bound  and  embroidered  slit  for  the 
head.  Leading  the  rapid  procession,  his  left  hand  rest- 
ing significantly  on  his  sword,  he  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  the  young  California  grandee,  dark  and  dashing  and 
reckless,  lithe  of  figure,  thoroughbred,  ardent.  His  eyes 
were  sparkling  at  the  prospect  of  excitement;  not  only 
had  the  Russians,  by  their  nefarious  appropriation  of 
the  northwestern  corner  of  the  continent  and  a  recent 
piratical  excursion  in  pursuit  of  otter,  inspired  the 
Spanish  Government  with  a  profound  disapproval  and 
mistrust,  but  a  rumor  had  run  up  the  coast  that  made 
every  sea-gull  look  like  the  herald  of  a  hostile  fleet. 
This  was  young  Argiiello's  first  taste  of  command,  and 
life  was  dull  on  the  northern  peninsula;  he  would  have 
welcomed  a  declaration  of  war. 

Davidov  and  Langsdorff  had  come  to  shore  in  one  of 
the  Juno's  canoes.  The  conversation  was  held  in  Latin 
between  the  two  men  of  learning. 

' '  Who  are  you  and  whence  come  you  ? ' '  asked  the  priest. 

Langsdorff,  who  had  been  severely  drilled  by  the 
plenipotentiary  as  to  text,  replied  with  a  profound  bow : 
"We  are  Russians  engaged  in  completing  the  circum- 
navigation of  the  globe.  It  was  our  intention  to  go 
directly  to  Monterey  and  present  our  official  documents, 
as  well  as  our  respects,  to  your  illustrious  Governor, 
but  owing  to  contrary  winds  and  a  resultant  scarcity  of 
provisions,  we  were  under  the  necessity  of  putting  into 
the  nearest  harbor.  The  Juno  is  navigated  by  Lieuten- 
ant Davidov  and  Lieutenant  Khovstov,  of  the  Imperial 
Navy  of  Russia;  by  gracious  permission  associated  with 
the  Marine  of  the  Russo- American  Company/'  He 
paused  a  moment,  and  then  swept  out  his  trump  card 
with  a  magnificent  flourish:  "Our  expedition  is  in 
command  of  His  Excellency,  Privy  Counsellor  and 
Grand  Chamberlain  Baron  Rezanov,  late  Ambassador  to 
the  Court  of  Japan,  Plenipotentiary  of  the  Russo- Amer- 
ican Company,  Imperial  Inspector  of  the  extreme  eastern 


6      BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

and  northwestern  American  dominions  of  His  Imperial 
Majesty,  Alexander  the  First,  Emperor  of  all  the  Rus- 
sias,  whose  representative  in  these  waters  he  is. ' ' 

The  Spaniards  were  properly  impressed  as  the  priest 
translated  with  the  glibness  of  the  original ;  but  Argiiel- 
lo,  who  now  announced  himself  as  Commandante  ad 
interim  of  the  Presidio  of  San  Francisco  during  the 
absence  of  his  father  at  Monterey,  nodded  sagely  several 
times,  and  then  held  a  short  conference  in  Spanish  with 
the  interpreter.  The  priest  turned  to  the  Eussians  with 
a  smile  as  diplomatic  as  that  which  Rezanov  had  drilled 
upon  the  ugly  ingenuous  countenance  of  his  medicine 
man. 

"Our  illustrious  Governor,  Don  Jose  Arrillaga,  re- 
ceived word  from  the  court  of  Spain,  now  quite  two 
years  ago,  of  the  sailing  in  1803  from  Kronstadt  of  the 
ships  Nadeshda  and  Neva,  in  command  of  Captain 
Krusenstern  and  Captain  Lisiansky,  the  former  having 
on  board  the  illustrious  Ambassador  to  Japan,  the  Privy 
Counsellor  and  Chamberlain  de  Rezanov.  It  was  ex- 
pected that  these  ships  would  touch  at  more  than  one  of 
His  Most  Holy  Catholic  Majesty's  vast  dominions,  and 
all  viceroys  and  gobernador  proprietaries  were  alike  in- 
structed to  receive  the  exalted  representative  of  the 
mighty  Emperor  of  Russia  with  hospitality  and  respect. 
But  we  cannot  understand  why  his  excellency  comes  to 
us  so  late  and  in  so  small  a  ship,  rather  than  in  the  state 
with  which  he  sailed  from  Europe. ' ' 

' '  The  explanation  is  simple,  my  father.  The  original 
ships,  from  a  variety  of  circumstances,  were,  upon  our 
arrival  at  Kamchatka,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  embassy 
to  Japan,  under  the  necessity  of  returning  at  once  to 
Europe.  His  Imperial  Majesty,  Alexander  the  First, 
ordered  the  Chamberlain  and  plenipotentiary,  the  rep- 
resentative of  imperial  power  in  the  Russo-American 
possessions,  to  remove  to  the  Juno  for  the  purpose  of 
visiting  the  Kurile  and  Aleutian  Islands,  Kadiak  and 
the  northwestern  coast  of  America."  The  Tsar  had 
never  heard  of  the  Juno,  but  as  Rezanov  was  practically 


REZANOV  7 

his  august  self  in  these  far-away  waters,  there  was 
enough  of  truth  in  this  statement  to  appease  the  con- 
science of  a  subordinate. 

The  Spaniards  were  satisfied.  Lieutenant  Argiiello 
begged  that  the  emissaries  would  return  to  the  ship  and 
invite  the  Chamberlain  and  his  party  to  come  at  once 
to  the  Presidio  and  do  it  the  honor  to  partake  of  the 
poor  hospitality  it  afforded.  An  officer  galloped  furi- 
ously for  horses. 

A  few  moments  later  they  were  still  more  deeply  im- 
pressed by  the  appearance  of  their  distinguished  visitor 
as  he  stood  erect  in  the  boat  that  brought  him  to  shore. 
In  full  uniform  of  dark  green  and  gold  lace,  with  cocked 
hat  and  the  splendid  order  of  St.  Ann  on  his  breast, 
Rezanov  was  by  far  the  finest  specimen  of  a  man  the 
Californians,  themselves  of  ampler  build  than  their  Eu- 
ropean ancestors,  had  ever  beheld.  Of  commanding 
stature  and  physique,  with  an  air  of  highest  breeding 
and  repose,  he  looked  both  a  man  of  the  great  world 
and  an  intolerant  leader  of  men.  His  long  oval  face  was 
thin  and  somewhat  lined,  the  mouth  heavily  molded  and 
closely  set,  suggestive  of  sarcasm  and  humor;  the  nose 
long,  with  arching  and  flexible  nostrils.  His  eyes,  sel- 
dom widely  opened,  were  light  blue,  very  keen,  usually 
cold.  Like  many  other  men  of  his  position  in  Europe, 
he  had  discarded  wig  and  queue  and  wore  his  short  fair 
hair  unpowdered. 

It  was  a  singularly  imposing  but  hardly  attractive 
presence,  thought  young  Argiiello,  until  Rezanov,  after 
stepping  on  shore  and  bowing  formally,  suddenly  smiled 
and  held  out  his  hand.  Then  the  impressionable  Span- 
iard " melted  like  a  woman,"  as  he  told  his  sister, 
Concha,  and  would  have  embraced  the  stranger  on  either 
cheek  had  not  awe  lingered  to  temper  his  enthusiasm. 
But  Rezanov  never  made  a  stauncher  friend  than  Louis 
Argiiello,  who  vowed  to  the  last  of  his  days  that  the 
one  man  who  had  fulfilled  his  ideal  of  the  grand  seig- 
neur was  he  that  sailed  in  from  the  North  on  that  fate- 
ful April  morning  of  1806. 


II 

As  Rezanov,  heading  the  procession  with  young  Argiiel- 
lo,  entered  the  wide  gates  of  the  Presidio,  he  received 
an  impression  memorably  different  from  that  which 
led  earlier  travelers  to  describe  it  inclemently  as  a  large 
square  surrounded  by  mud  houses  thatched  with  reeds. 
It  is  true  that  the  walls  were  of  adobe  and  the  roofs  of 
tule,  nor  was  there  a  tree  on  the  sand  hills  encircling 
the  stronghold.  But  in  this  early  springtime — the  sum- 
mer of  the  peninsula — the  hills  showed  patches  of  ver- 
dure, and  all  the  low  white  buildings  were  covered  by 
a  network  of  soft  dull  green  and  archaic  pink.  The 
Castilian  rose,  full  and  fluted,  and  of  a  chaste  and  pene- 
trating fragrance,  hung  singly  and  in  clusters  on  the 
pillars  of  the  dwellings,  on  the  barracks  and  chapel, 
from  the  very  roofs;  bloomed  upon  bushes  as  high  as 
young  trees.  The  Presidio  was  as  delicately  perfumed 
as  a  lady's  bower,  and  its  cannon  faced  the  ever-chang- 
ing hues  of  water  and  island  and  hill. 

As  the  party  approached,  heads  of  all  ages  appeared 
between  the  vines,  and  there  was  a  low  murmur  of  irre- 
pressible curiosity  and  delight. 

"We  do  not  see  many  strangers  in  this  lonely  land," 
said  Argiiello  apologetically.  "And  never  before  have 
we  had  so  distinguished  a  guest  as  your  excellency.  It 
was  always  a  gala  day  when  even  a  Boston  skipper 
came  in  with  a  few  bales  of  goods  and  a  complexion  like 
the  hides  we  sold  him.  Now,  alas!  they  are  no  longer 
permitted  to  enter  our  ports.  Governor  Arrillaga  will 
have  none  of  contraband  trade  and  slaying  of  our  otter. 
And  as  for  Europeans  other  than  Spaniards,  save  for 
an  English  sea  captain  now  and  then,  they  know  naught 
of  our  existence." 

8 


REZANOV,  9 

But  Rezanov  had  not  come  to  California  on  the  im- 
pulse of  a  moment.  He  replied  suavely:  " There  you 
are  mistaken.  Your  illustrious  father,  Don  Jose  Mario 
de  Argiiello,  is  well  known  to  us  as  the  most  respected, 
eminent  and  influential  character  in  the  Californias.  It 
was  my  intention,  after  paying  a  visit  of  ceremony  to 
his  excellency,  Governor  Arrillaga,  to  come  to  San  Fran- 
cisco for  the  sole  purpose  of  meeting  a  man  whose  record 
has  inspired  me  with  the  deepest  interest.  And  we  have 
all  heard  such  wonderful  tales  of  your  California,  of 
its  beauty,  its  fertility,  of  the  beneficent  lives  of  your 
missionaries — so  different  from  ours! — and  of  the  hos- 
pitality and  elegance  of  the  Spaniards,  that  it  has  been 
the  objective  point  of  my  travels,  and  I  have  found  it 
difficult  to  curb  my  impatience  while  attending  to  im- 
perative duties  elsewhere." 

"Ay!  senor!"  exclaimed  the  young  Calif ornian. 
"What  you  say  fills  me  with  a  pride  I  cannot  express, 
and  I  can  only  regret  that  the  reports  of  our  poor  habi- 
tations should  be  so  sadly  exaggerated.  Such  as  our 
possessions  are,  however,  they  are  yours  while  you  deign 
to  remain  in  our  midst.  This  is  my  father's  house.  I 
beg  that  you  will  regard  it  as  your  own.  Burn  it  if  you 
will!"  he  cried  with  more  enthusiasm  than  commonly 
enlivened  the  phrases  of  hospitality.  ' '  He  will  be  proud 
to  know  that  a  lifetime  of  severe  attention  to  duty  and 
of  devotion  to  his  King  have  won  him  fame  abroad  as 
well  as  at  home.  He  has  risen  to  his  present  position 
from  the  ranks,  but  he  is  of  pure  Spanish  blood,  not  a 
drop  of  Indian;  and  my  mother  was  a  Moraga,  of  the 
best  blood  of  Spain,"  he  added  artlessly.  "As  to  the 
beauty  and  variety  of  our  country,  senor,  of  course  you 
will  visit  our  opulent  south;  but "  They  had  dis- 
mounted at  the  Commandante's  house  in  the  southeast 
corner  of  the  square.  Argiiello  impulsively  led  Rezanov 
back  to  the  gates  and  pointed  to  the  east.  "I  have 
crossed  those  mountains  and  the  mountains  beyond, 
Excellency,  and  seen  fertile  and  beautiful  valleys  of  a 
vast  extent,  watered  by  five  rivers  and  bounded  far  far 


10    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

away  by  mountains  covered  with  snow  and  gigantic 
trees.  The  valley  beyond  the  southern  edge  of  the  bay, 
where  the  Missions  of  Santa  Clara  and  San  Jose  are,  is 
also  rich,  but  those  between  the  two  ranges  is  an  empire ; 
and  one  day  when  the  King  sends  us  more  colonists, 
we  shall  recompense  Spain  for  all  she  has  lost." 

"I  congratulate  you!"  Rezanov,  indifferent  to  his 
host's  ancestral  tree,  had  lifted  an  alert  ear.  His  quick 
incisive  brain  was  at  work.  "I  should  like  to  stretch 
my  legs  over  a  horse  for  a  week  at  a  time,  and  even  to 
climb  your  highest  mountains.  You  may  imagine  how 
much  exercise  a  man  may  get  on  a  vessel  of  two  hun- 
dred and  six  tons,  and  it  is  thirty-two  days  since  I  left 
Sitka.  To  look  upon  a  vast  expanse  of  green — to  say 
nothing  of  possible  sport — after  a  winter  of  incessant 
rain  and  impenetrable  forests — what  a  prospect!  I  beg 
you  will  take  me  off  into  the  wilderness  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

"I  promise  you  the  Governor  shall  not  withhold  his 
consent — and  there  are  bear  and  deer — quail,  wild  duck 
— your  excellency  will  enjoy  that  beautiful  wild  country 
as  I  have  done."  Argiiello  was  enchanted  at  the  pros- 
pect of  fresh  adventure  in  the  company  of  this  fascinat- 
ing stranger.  ' '  But  we  are  once  more  at  our  poor  abode, 
senor.  I  beg  you  to  remember  that  it  is  your  own." 

They  ascended  the  steps  of  the  piazza,  suddenly  de- 
serted, and  it  seemed  to  Rezanov  that  every  sense  in 
his  being  quivered  responsively  to  the  poignant  sweet- 
ness of  the  Castilian  roses.  He  throbbed  with  a  sudden 
exultant  premonition  that  he  stood  on  the  threshold  of 
an  historic  future,  with  a  pagan  joy  in  mere  existence,  a 
sudden  rush  of  desire  for  the  keen  wild  happiness  of 
youth.  Such  is  the  elixir  of  California  in  the  north  and 
the  spring. 

They  entered  a  long  sala  typical  of  its  day  and  of 
many  to  come;  whitewashed  walls  hung  with  colored 
prints  of  the  Virgin  and  saints;  horsehair  furniture, 
matting,  deep  window  seats;  and  a  perennial  coolness. 
The  Chamberlain  (his  court  title  and  the  one  commonly 


REZANOV  11 

attached  to  his  name)  made  himself  as  comfortable  as 
the  slippery  chair  would  permit,  and  Argiiello  went  for 
his  mother. 

Langsdorff,  who  had  lingered  on  the  piazza  with  the 
priest,  entered  in  a  moment. 

"The  good  padre  tells  me  that  this  rose  of  Castile  is 
the  only  imported  flower  in  Calif ornia, ' '  he  cried,  with 
enthusiasm,  for  although  not  a  botanist  there  was  a 
bump  between  his  eyes  as  big  as  a  child 's  fist  and  he  had 
a  nose  like  the  prow  of  a  toy  ship.  "Many  cuttings 
were  brought  from  Spain " 

* l  What  difference  does  it  make  where  it  came  from  ? ' ' 
interrupted  Rezanov  testily.  "Is  it  not  enough  that  it 
is  beautiful,  but  it  must  have  a  pin  stuck  through  it  like 
some  poor  devil  of  a  butterfly  ? ' ' 

"Your  excellency  has  also  the  habit  to  probe  into 
things  he  deems  worthy  of  his  attention/'  retorted  the 
offended  scientist;  but  he  was  obliged  to  closet  his 
wrath.  An  inner  door  opened  and  the  host  reappeared 
with  his  mother  and  a  fair  demonstration  of  her  virtues. 
She  was  a  very  large  woman  dressed  loosely  in  black, 
but  she  carried  herself  with  an  air  of  complete,  if  some- 
what sleepy,  dignity,  and  it  was  evident  that  her  beauty 
had  been  great.  Her  full  face  had  lost  its  contours, 
but  time  had  spared  the  fine  Roman  nose  and  the  white 
skin,  that  birthright  of  the  high-bred  Castilian.  Ar- 
giiello  presented  his  family  ceremoniously  as  the  guest 
of  honor  rose  and  bowed  with  formal  deference. 

* '  My  mother,  Dona  Ignacia  Argiiello,  your  excellency, 
who  unites  with  me  in  praying  that  you  will  regard  our 
home  as  yours  during  your  sojourn  in  the  north.  My 
sister,  Maria  de  la  Concepcion  Marcella  Argiiello,  and 
my  little  sisters,  Ana  Paula  and  Gertrudes  Rudisinda. 
My  brothers :  Gervasio — soldado  distinguido  of  the  San 
Francisco  Company ;  Santiago,  a  cadet  in  the  same  com- 
pany; Francesco  and  Toribio,  whose  presence  at  the 
table  I  beg  you  will  overlook,  for  when  we  are  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  be  all  together,  sefior,  we  cannot  bear  to  be 
separated.  My  oldest  brother,  alas ! — Ignacio — is  study- 


12    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

ing  for  holy  orders  in  Mexico,  and  my  sister  Isabel 
visits  at  the  Presidio  of  Santa  Barbara.  I  beg  that  you 
will  be  seated,  Excellency."  And  he  continued  the  in- 
troduction to  the  lesser  luminaries,  with  equal  courtesy 
but  fewer  periods. 

Rezanov  exchanged  a  few  pleasant  words  with  his 
smiling  hostess  before  she  returned  to  her  distracted 
maids  preparing  the  dinner;  but  his  eyes  during  Ar- 
giiello  's  declamation  had  wandered  with  a  singular  fidel- 
ity to  the  beautiful  face  of  the  eldest  daughter  of  the 
house.  She  had  responded  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in 
her  magnificent  black  eyes  and  not  a  hint  of  diffidence. 
As  she  entered  the  room  his  brain  had  flashed  out  the 
thought:  " Thank  heaven  for  a  pretty  girl  after  these 
three  abominable  years !"  Possibly  his  pleasure  would 
have  been  salted  with  pique  had  he  guessed  that  her 
thought  was  the  twin  of  his  own.  He  was  the  first  man 
of  any  world  more  considerable  than  the  petty  court 
of  the  viceroy  of  Mexico  that  had  visited  California  in 
her  time,  and  excellent  as  she  found  his  tall  military 
figure  and  pale  cold  face,  the  novelty  of  the  circum- 
stance fluttered  her  more. 

Dona  "  Concha "  Argiiello  was  the  beauty  of  Cali- 
fornia, and  although  her  years  were  but  sixteen  her 
blood  was  Spanish,  and  she  carried  her  tall  deep  figure 
and  fine  head  with  the  grace  and  dignity  of  an  accom- 
plished woman.  She  had  inherited  the  white  skin  and 
delicate  Koman-Spanish  profile  of  the  Moragas,  but 
there  was  an  intelligent  fire  in  her  eyes,  a  sharp  accen- 
tuation of  nostril,  and  a  full  mobility  of  mouth,  child- 
ish, half-developed  as  that  feature  still  was,  that  be- 
trayed a  strong  cross-current  forcing  the  placid  ma- 
ternal flow  into  rugged  and  unexplored  channels,  while 
assimilating  its  fine  qualities  of  pride  and  high  breed- 
ing. Gervasio  and  Santiago  resembled  their  sister  in 
coloring  and  pi  :>file,  but  lacked  her  subtle  quality  of 
personality  and  divine  innocence.  Luis  was  more  the 
mother's  son  than  the  father's — saving  his  olive  skin; 
a  grandee,  modified  by  the  simplicities  of  a  soldier's 


REZANOV  13 

life,  amiable  and  upright.  Dona  Ignacia  recognized  in 
Concha  the  quintessence  of  the  two  opposing  streams, 
and  had  long  since  ceased  to  impose  upon  a  girl  who 
had  little  else  but  her  liberties,  the  conventional  restric- 
tions of  the  Spanish  maiden.  Concha  had  already  re- 
ceived many  offers  of  marriage  and  regarded  men  as 
mere  swingers  of  incense.  Moreover,  her  cultivated 
mind  was  filled  with  ideals  and  ideas  far  beyond  any- 
thing California  would  yield  in  her  day. 

As  Rezanov,  upon  Dona  Ignacia 's  retreat,  walked 
directly  over  to  her,  she  smilingly  seated  herself  on  a 
sofa  and  swept  aside  her  voluminous  white  skirts.  She 
was  not  sure  that  she  liked  him,  but  in  no  doubt  what- 
ever of  her  delight  at  his  advent. 

Her  manners  were  very  simple  and  artless,  as  are  the 
manners  of  most  women  whom  Nature  has  gifted  with 
complexity  and  depth. 

"It  is  now  two  years  and  more  that  we  have  been 
excited  over  the  prospect  of  this  visit/'  she  said.  "But 
if  you  will  tell  me  what  you  have  been  doing  all  this 
time,  I,  at  least,  will  forgive  you ;  for  you  will  never  be 
able  to  imagine,  senor,  how  I  long  to  hear  of  the  great 
world.  I  stare  at  the  map,  then  at  the  few  pictures  we 
have,  I  know  many  books  of  travel  by  heart;  but  I  am 
afraid  my  imagination  is  a  poor  one,  for  I  cannot  con- 
jure up  great  cities  filled  with  people — thousands  of 
people!  Dios  de  mi  alma!  A  world  where  there  is 
something  besides  mountains  and  water,  grain  fields, 
orchards,  forests,  earthquakes,  and  climate!  "Will  you, 
senor  ?" 

' '  For  quite  as  many  hours  as  you  will  listen  to  me.  I 
propose  a  compact.  You  shall  improve  my  Spanish. 
I  will  impart  all  I  know  of  Europe — and  of  Asia — if 
your  curiosity  reaches  that  far." 

"Even  of  Japan?"  There  was  a  wicked  sparkle 
in  her  eye. 

"I  see  you  already  have  some  knowledge  of  the  cause 
of  my  delay. ' '  His  voice  was  even,  but  a  wound  smarted. 
"It  is  quite  true,  senorita,  that  the  first  embassy  to 


14    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Japan,  from  which  we  hoped  so  much,  was  a  humiliat- 
ing failure,  and  that  I  was  played  with  for  six  months 
by  a  people  whom  we  had  regarded  as  a  nation  of 
monkeys.  When  my  health  began  to  suffer  from  the 
long  confinement  on  shipboard — we  had  previously  been 
fourteen  months  at  sea — and  I  asked  to  be  permitted  to 
live  on  shore  while  my  claims  to  an  audience  were  under 
consideration,  I  was  removed  with  my  suite  to  a  cage 
on  a  strip  of  land  nearly  surrounded  with  water,  where 
I  had  less  liberty  and  exercise  than  on  shipboard.  Final- 
ly, I  had  a  ridiculous  interview  with  a  'great  man,'  in 
which  I  accomplished  nothing  but  the  preservation  of 
what  personal  dignity  a  man  may  while  sitting  on  his 
heels ;  the  superb  presents  of  the  Tsar  were  returned  to 
me,  and  I  was  politely  told  to  leave;  Japan  wanted 
neither  the  friendship  of  Russia  nor  her  gimcracks. 
That,  senorita,  is  the  history  of  the  first  Russian  Em- 
bassy— for  the  tentative  visit  of  Adam  Lanxmann, 
twelve  years  before,  can  be  dignified  by  no  such  title — 
to  Oriental  waters.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Count  Golof- 
kin,  who  was  to  undertake  a  similar  mission  to  China, 
has  met  with  a  better  fate." 

Underneath  the  polished  armor  of  a  man  who  was  a 
courtier  when  he  chose  and  the  dominating  spirit  al- 
ways, he  was  hot  and  quick  of  temper.  His  light  cold 
eyes  glowed  with  resentment  at  the  dancing  lights  in 
hers,  as  he  cynically  gave  her  a  bald  abstract  of  the 
unfortunate  mission.  He  reflected  that  commonly  he 
would  have  fitted  a  different  mask  to  the  ugly  skull  of 
fact,  but  this  young  barbarian,  as  he  chose  to  regard 
her,  excited  the  elemental  truth  in  him,  defying  him  to 
appear  at  his  worst.  He  was  astonished  to  see  her  eyes 
suddenly  soften  and  her  mouth  tremble. 

1  'It  must  have  been  a  hateful  experience — hateful!" 
Her  voice,  beginning  on  its  usual  low  soft  note,  rose  to 
a  hoarse  pitch  of  indignation.  "I  should  have  killed 
somebody!  To  be  a  man,  and  strong,  and  caressed  all 
one's  life  by  fortune — and  to  be  as  helpless  as  an  In- 
dian !  Madre  de  Dios ! ' ' 


REZANOV  15 

"I  shall  take  my  revenge, "  said  Rezanov  shortly;  but 
the  wound  closed,  and  once  more  he  became  aware  of 
the  poignant  sweetness  of  Castilian  roses.  Concha  wore 
one  in  her  soft  dusky  hair,  and  another  where  the  little 
round  jacket  of  white  linen,  gaily  embroidered  with 
pink,  met  on  her  bosom.  But  if  sentiment  tempted  him, 
he  was  quickly  poised  by  her  next  remarks.  She  uttered 
them  in  a  low  tone,  although  the  animated  conversation 
of  the  rest  of  the  party  would  have  permitted  the  two 
on  the  sofa  to  exchange  the  vows  of  love  unheard. 

"But  what  a  practice  for  your  diplomatic  talents, 
Excellency!  Poor  California!  At  least  let  me  be  the 
first  to  hear  what  you  have  come  for?"  Her  voice 
dropped  to  a  soft  cooing  note,  although  her  eyes  twin- 
kled. "For  the  love  of  God,  senor!  I  am  so  bored  in 
this  life  on  the  edge  of  the  world!  To  see  the  seams 
and  ravelings  of  a  diplomatic  intrigue !  I  have  read  and 
heard  of  many,  but  never  had  I  hoped  to  link  my  finger 
in  anything  subtler  than  a  quarrel  between  priest  and 
Governor,  or  the  jealousy  of  Los  Angeles  for  Monterey. 
I  even  will  help  you — if  you  mean  no  harm  to  my  father 
or  my  country.  And  I  am  not  a  friend  to  scorn,  senor, 
for  my  blessed  father  is  as  wax  in  my  hands,  the  dear 
old  Governor  adores  me,  and  even  Padre  Abella,  who 
thinks  himself  a  great  diplomat,  and  is  watching  us  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  while  I  make  him  believe  you 
pay  me  so  many  compliments  my  poor  little  head  turns 
round — Bueno  senor!"  As  she  raised  her  voice  she 
plucked  the  rose  from  her  dress  and  tossed  it  to  Reza- 
nov. Then  she  lifted  her  chin  and  pouted  her  childish 
lips  at  the  ironical  smile  of  the  priest. 

Rezanov  was  close  to  betraying  his  surprise ;  but  as  he 
cherished  a  belief  that  the  souls  of  all  pretty  women 
went  to  school  to  the  devil  before  entering  upon  earthly 
enterprise,  he  wondered  that  he  had  been  open  to  the 
illusion  of  complete  ingenuousness  in  a  descendant  of 
one  of  the  oldest  and  subtlest  civilizations  of  earth. 
Within  that  luminous  shell  of  youth  there  were,  no 
doubt,  whispering  memories  of  men  and  women  steeped 


16    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

in  court  intrigue  to  the  eyes,  of  triumphant  beauties 
tliat  had  lived  for  love  and  their  power  over  the  pas- 
sions of  men  as  ardent  as  himself.  It  was  quite  possible 
that  she  might  be  as  useful  as  she  desired.  But  his 
impulses  were  in  leash.  He  merely  looked  and  mur- 
mured his  admiration. 

"Better  ask,  what  chance  have  I,  a  defenceless  man, 
who  has  not  seen  a  charming  woman  for  three  years, 
against  such  practised  art?  If  you  can  hoodwink  a 
Spanish  priest,  and  manipulate  a  Governor  who  has  won 
the  confidence  of  the  most  suspicious  court  in  Europe, 
what  fortune  for  a  barbarian  of  the  north?  Less  than 
with  Japan,  I  should  think. ' ' 

He  divested  the  rose  of  its  thorns  and  many  tight 
little  buds,  and  thrust  the  stem  underneath  the  star  of 
St.  Ann.  She  lifted  her  chin  again  and  tossed  her  head. 

"You  do  not  trust  me,  but  you  will.  I  fancy  it  will 
be  before  long — for  it  is  quite  true  that  the  Californians 
are  not  so  easily  outwitted.  And — even  did  I  not  help 
you,  I  would  not — I  vow,  seiior! — betray  you.  Is  it 
true  that  Russia  is  at  war  with  Spain?" 

"What?" 

"Have  you  not  heard?  It  was  for  that  we  were  all 
so  excited  this  morning.  "We  thought  your  ship  might 
be  the  first  of  a  fleet." 

1 1 1  have  heard  no  such  rumor,  and  you  may  dismiss  it. 
Eussia  is  too  much  occupied  with  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
who  has  had  himself  crowned  Emperor,  and  by  this  time 
is  probably  at  war  with  half  Europe " 

She  interrupted  him  with  flashing  eyes.  The  pink  in 
her  cheeks  had  turned  red.  The  thin  nostrils  of  her 
pretty  Roman  nose  fluttered  like  paper.  "Ah!"  she 
exclaimed,  again  with  that  note  of  hoarseness  in  her 
voice.  "There  is  a  great  man,  not  a  mere  king  on  a 
throne  his  ancestors  made  for  him.  Papa  hates  him 
because  he  has  seized  a  throne.  Ay  yi!  Dios!  you 
should  hear  the  words  fly  when  we  go  to  war  together. 
But  I  do  not  care  that" — she  snapped  her  firm  white 
fingers — "for  all  the  Bourbons  that  are  in  Europe. 


REZANOV  17 

Bonaparte!  Do  you  know  him  Have  you  seen  him?" 
"I  have  seen  him  insult  poor  Markov,  our  ambassa- 
dor to  France,  when  I  can  assure  you  that  he  looked 
like  neither  a  demi-god  nor  a  gentleman.  When  you 
have  improved  my  Spanish  I  will  tell  you  many  anec- 
dotes of  him.  Meanwhile,  am  I  to  assume  that  you  re- 
serve your  admiration  for  the  man  that  carves  his  ca- 
reer in  defiance  of  the  rusty  old  machinery  ? ' ' 

"I  do!  I  do!  My  father  was  of  the  people,  a  poor 
boy.  He  has  risen  to  be  the  most  powerful  of  all  Cali- 
fornians,  although  the  King  he  adores  never  makes  him 
Gobernador  Propietario.  I  tell  him  he  should  be  the 
first  to  recognize  the  genius  and  the  ambitions  of  a 
Bonaparte.  The  mere  thought  horrifies  him.  But  in 
me  that  same  strong  plebeian  blood  makes  another  cry, 
and  if  my  father  had  but  enough  men  at  his  back,  and 
the  will  to  make  himself  King  of  the  Californias — 
Madre  de  Dios !  how  I  should  help  him ! ' ' 

"At  least  I  know  her  better  than  she  knows  me," 
thought  Rezanov,  as  the  inner  door  was  thrown  open  and 
another  bare  room  with  a  long  table  laden  with  savory 
food  on  a  superb  silver  service  was  revealed.  ' '  And  if  I 
know  anything  of  women,  I  can  trust  her — for  as  long 
as  she  may  be  necessary,  at  all  events." 


Ill 

''SANTIAGO!'*  whispered  Concha.  "Do  not  go  down 
to  the  ship.  Take  me  for  a  walk.  I  have  much  to 
say." 

Santiago,  who  had  not  been  asked  to  form  one  of 
the  escort  upon  the  return  of  the  Eussians  to  the 
Juno  for  the  night,  felt  injured  and  sulky  and  deigned 
no  reply. 

"If  you  do  not,  I'll  not  braid  your  hair  to-morrow," 
said  his  sister,  giving  his  arm  a  little  shake;  and  he 
succumbed.  The  luxuriant  tresses  of  the  male  Argiiellos 
were  combed  and  braided  and  tied  with  a  ribbon  every 
morning  by  the  women  of  the  family,  and  Concha's 
fingers  were  the  gentlest  and  deftest.  And  Concha 
and  Santiago  were  more  intimate  than  even  the  rest 
of  that  united  family.  They  had  studied  and  read 
together,  were  equally  dissatisfied  with  their  narrow 
existence,  ambitious  for  a  wider  experience.  Santiago 
consoled  himself  with  cards  and  training  roosters  for 
battle,  and  otherwise  as  a  man  may.  He  was  but 
fifteen,  this  haughty  severe-looking  young  hidalgo,  but 
while  in  some  respects  many  years  older  than  his  sister, 
in  others  he  was  younger,  for  he  possessed  none  of 
her  illuminating  instinct. 

She  led  him  through  a  postern  gate,  round  the  first 
of  the  dunes,  and  they  were  alone  in  a  waste  of  sand. 
She  demanded  abruptly: 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  illustrious  visitor?" 

"I  like  him.  He  would  wring  your  neck  if  you  got 
in  his  way,  but  has  a  kind  heart  for  those  that  call 
him  master.  I  like  that  sort  of  a  man.  I  wish  he  would 
take  me  away  with  him." 

"He  shall — one  of  these  days.    Santiago  mio,  let  me 

18 


REZANOV  19 

whisper "     She  pulled  his  ear  down  to  her  lips. 

"He  will  marry  me.  I  feel  it.  I  know  it.  He  has 
talked  to  me  the  whole  day.  He  has  told  me  grave 
secrets.  Not  even  to  you  would  I  reveal  them.  So  many 
have  loved  me — why  should  not  he?  I  shall  live  in  St. 
Petersburg,  and  see  all  Europe ! — thousands  of  people — 
Dios  mio!  Dios  mio!" 

" Indeed  I"  Santiago,  still  unamiable,  responded  to 
this  confidence  with  a  sneer.  "You  aspire  very  high 
for  a  little  girl  of  the  wilderness,  without  fortune, 
and  only  half  a  coat-of-arms,  so  to  speak.  Do  you  know 
that  this  Rezanov — Dr.  Langsdorff  has  told  us  all  about 
him — is  a  great  noble,  one  of  the  ten  barons  of 
Russia,  and  a  Chamberlain  in  accordance  with  a  de- 
cree of  Peter  the  Great  that  court  titles  should  be 
bestowed  as  a  reward  for  distinguished  services  alone? 
He  got  a  fortune  in  his  youth  by  marriage  with  a 
daughter  of  Shelikov — that  Siberian  who  founded  the 
Eussian  colonies  in  America.  The  wife  died  almost 
immediately,  but  the  Baron's  influence  remained  with 
Shelikov — for  his  influence  at  court  was  even  greater — 
and  after  the  older  man 's  death,  with  his  mother-in- 
law,  who  is  uncommonly  clever.  Shelikov 's  schemes 
were  but  sketches  beside  Rezanov 's,  who  from  merely  a 
courtier  and  a  gay  blood  about  town  developed  into  a 
great  man  of  business,  with  an  ambition  to  correspond. 
It  was  he  who  got  the  Imperial  ukase  that  gave  the 
Russian-American  Company  its  power  to  squeeze  all 
the  other  fur  hunters  and  traders  out  of  the  northeast, 
and  make  Rezanov  and  everybody  belonging  to  it  so 
rich  your  head  would  swim  if  I  told  you  the  number 
of  doubloons  they  spend  in  a  year.  Nobody  has  ever 
been  so  clever  at  managing  those  old  beasts  of  autocrats 
as  he.  They  think  him  merely  the  accomplished  courtier, 
a  brilliant  dilettante,  a  condescending  patron  of  art  and 
letters,  a  devotee  of  pleasure,  and  all  the  time  he  is 
pulling  their  befuddled  old  brains  about  to  suit  him- 
self. The  Tsar  Paul  was  a  lunatic  and  they  murdered 
him,  but  meanwhile  he  signed  the  ukase.  The  Tsar 


20    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Alexander,  who  is  not  so  bad  nor  so  silly  as  the  others, 
thinks  there  is  no  man  so  clever  as  Rezanov,  who 
addresses  him  personally  when  sending  home  his  re- 
ports. Do  you  know  what  all  that  means?  Your  pleni- 
potentiary is  not  only  a  Chamberlain  at  court,  a  Privy 
Councillor,  and  the  Tsar  himself  on  this  side  of  the 
world,  but  when  his  inspections  and  reforms  are  con- 
cluded, and  he  is  one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  Russia, 
he  will  return  to  St.  Petersburg  and  become  so  high  and 
mighty  that  a  princess  would  snap  at  him.  And  you 
aspire!  I  never  heard  such  nonsense. " 

"His  excellency  told  me  much  of  this,"  replied 
Concha  imperturbably.  "And  I  am  sure  that  he  cares 
nothing  for  princesses  and  will  marry  whom  he  most 
admires.  He  would  not  say,  but  I  know  he  cared  noth- 
ing for  that  poor  little  wife,  dead  so  long  ago.  It  was 
a  mariage  de  convenance,  such  as  all  the  great  world 
is  accustomed  to.  He  will  love  me  more  than  all  the 
fine  ladies  he  has  ever  seen.  I  feel  it !  I  know  it !  And 
I  am  quite  happy." 

"Do  you  love  him?"  asked  Santiago,  looking  curi- 
ously at  his  sister's  flushed  and  glowing  face.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  she  had  never  looked  so  young.  "Many 
have  loved  you.  I  had  begun  to  think  you  had  no 
heart  for  men,  no  wish  for  anything  but  admiration. 
And  now  you  give  your  heart  in  a  day  to  this  Russian 
— who  must  be  nearly  forty — unasked." 

"I  have  not  thought  of  my  heart  at  all.  But  I  could 
love  him,  of  course.  He  is  so  handsome,  so  kind,  so 
grand,  so  gay !  But  love  is  for  men  and  wives — has  not 
my  mother  said  so?  Now  I  think  only  of  St.  Peters- 
burg! of  Paris!  of  London!  of  the  beautiful  gowns  and 
jewels  I  shall  wear  at  court — a  red  velvet  train  as  long 
as  a  queen's,  and  all  embroidered  with  gold,  a  white 
veil  spangled  with  gold,  a  head-dress  a  foot  high  studded 
with  jewels,  ropes  of  diamonds  and  pearls — I  made  him 
tell  me  how  the  great  ladies  dressed.  Ah!  there  is  the 
pleasure  of  being  a  girl — to  think  and  dream  of  all  those 
beautiful  things,  not  of  when  the  wife  must  live  always 


REZANOV  21 

for  the  husband  and  children.  That  comes  soon  enough. 
And  why  should  I  not  have  all!  all! — there  is  so  little 
in  life  for  the  girl.  It  seems  to  me  now  that  I  have 
had  nothing.  When  he  asks  me  to  marry  him  he  will 
tell  me  of  the  fine  things  I  shall  have  and  the  great 
sights  I  shall  witness — the  ceremonies  at  court,  the  win- 
ter streets — with  snow — snow,  Santiago! — where  the 
great  nobles  drive  four  horses  through  the  drifts  like 
little  hills,  and  are  wrapped  in  furs  like  bears!  The 
grand  military  parades — how  I  shall  laugh  when  I 
think  of  our  poor  little  Presidios  with  their  dozen  officers 
strutting  about "  She  stopped  abruptly  and  burst- 
ing wildly  into  tears  flung  herself  into  her  brother's 
arms.  ' '  But  I  never  could  leave  you !  And  my  father ! 
my  mother!  all!  all!  Ay,  Dios  de  mi  alma!  what  an 
ingrate  I  am !  I  should  die  of  homesickness !  My  San- 
tiago! My  Santiago!" 

Santiago  patted  her  philosophically.  "You  are  not 
going  to-morrow, ' '  he  reminded  her.  ' '  Don 't  cross  your 
bridges  until  you  come  to  them.  That  is  a  good  proverb 
for  maids  and  men.  You  might  take  us  all  with  you, 
or  spend  every  third  year  or  so  in  California.  No  doubt 
you  would  need  the  rest.  And  meanwhile  remember 
that  the  high  and  mighty  Chamberlain  has  not  yet  asked 
for  the  honor  of  an  alliance  with  the  house  of  Argiiello, 
and  that  your  brother  will  match  his  best  fighting  cock 
against  your  new  white  lace  mantilla  from  Mexico,  that 
he  is  not  meditating  any  project  so  detrimental  to  his 
fortunes.  Console  yourself  with  the  reflection  that  if  he 
were,  our  father  and  the  priests,  and  the  Governor  him- 
self, would  die  of  apoplexy.  He  is  a  heretic — a  member 
of  the  Greek  Church!  Hast  thou  lost  thy  reason, 
Conchita?  Dry  your  eyes  and  come  home  to  sleep,  and 
let  us  hear  no  more  of  marriage  with  a  man  who  is  not 
only  a  barbarian  of  the  north  and  a  heretic,  but  so 
proud  he  does  not  think  a  Californian  good  enough  to 
wash  his  decks." 


IV 

IT  was  long  before  Rezanov  slept  that  night.  The  usual 
chill  had  come  in  from  the  Pacific  as  the  sun  went  down, 
and  the  distinguished  visitor  had  intimated  to  his  hosts 
that  he  should  like  to  exercise  on  shore  until  ready  for 
his  detested  quarters;  but  Argiiello  dared  not,  in  the 
absence  of  his  father,  invite  the  foreigner  even  to  sleep 
in  the  house  so  lavishly  offered  in  the  morning ;  although 
he  had  sent  such  an  abundance  of  provisions  to  the  ship 
that  the  poor  sailors  were  deep  in  sleep,  gorged  like 
boa-constrictors ;  and  he  could  safely  promise  that  while 
the  Juno  remained  in  port  her  larder  should  never  be 
empty.  He  shared  the  evening  bowl  of  punch  in  the 
cabin,  then  went  his  way  lamenting  that  he  could  not 
take  his  new  friends  with  him. 

Rezanov  paced  the  little  deck  of  the  Juno  to  keep  his 
blood  in  stir.  There  was  no  moon.  Tha  islands  and 
promontories  on  the  great  sheet  of  water  were  black 
save  for  the  occasional  glow  of  an  Indian  camp-fire. 
There  was  not  a  sound  but  the  lapping  of  the  waves, 
the  roar  of  distant  breakers.  The  great  silver  stars 
and  the  little  green  stars  looked  down  upon  a  solitude 
that  was  almost  primeval,  yet  mysteriously  disturbed 
by  the  restless  currents  in  the  brain  of  a  man  who 
had  little  in  common  with  primal  forces. 

Rezanov  was  uneasy  on  more  scores  than  one.  He 
was  annoyed  and  mortified  at  the  discovery — made  over 
the  punch  bowl — that  the  girl  he  had  taken  to  be  twenty 
was  but  sixteen.  It  was  by  no  means  his  first  experi- 
ence of  the  quick  maturity  of  southern  women — but 
sixteen!  He  had  never  wasted  a  moment  on  a  chit 
before,  and  although  he  was  a  man  of  imagination,  and 
notwithstanding  her  intelligence  and  dignity,  he  could 

22 


REZANOV  23 

not  reconcile  properties  so  conflicting  with  any  sort  of 
feminine  ideal. 

And  the  pressing  half  of  his  mission  he  had  confided 
to  her!  No  man  knew  better  than  he  the  value  of  a 
tactful  and  witty  woman  in  the  political  dilemmas  of 
life;  more  than  one  had  given  him  devoted  service,  nor 
ever  yet  had  he  made  a  mistake.  After  several  hours 
spent  in  the  society  of  this  clever  politic  dissatisfied 
girl  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  could  trust 
her,  and  had  told  her  of  the  lamentable  condition  of 
the  creatures  in  the  employ  of  the  Russian-American 
Company;  of  their  chronic  state  of  semi-starvation,  of 
the  scurvy  that  made  them  apathetic  of  brain  and  body, 
and  eventually  would  exterminate  them  unless  he  could 
establish  reciprocal  trade  relations  with  California  and 
obtain  regular  supplies  of  farinaceous  food;  acknowl- 
edged that  he  had  brought  a  cargo  of  Russian  and 
Boston  goods  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  the  Missions 
and  Presidios,  and  that  he  would  not  return  to  the 
wretched  people  of  Sitka,  at  least,  without  a  generous 
exchange  of  breadstuffs,  dried  meats,  peas,  beans,  barley 
and  tallow.  Not  only  had  he  no  longer  the  courage 
to  witness  their  misery,  but  his  fortune  and  his  career 
were  at  stake.  His  entire  capital  was  invested  in  the 
Company  he  had  founded,  and  he  had  failed  in  his 
embassy  to  Japan — to  the  keen  mortification  of  the 
Tsar  and  the  jubilation  of  his  enemies.  If  he  left  the 
Emperor's  northeastern  dominions  unreclaimed  and 
failed  to  rescue  the  Company  from  its  precarious  con- 
dition, he  hardly  should  care  to  return  to  St.  Peters- 
burg. 

Dona  Concha  had  listened  to  this  eloquent  harangue — 
they  sat  alone  at  one  end  of  the  long  sala  while  Luis 
at  the  other  toiled  over  letters  to  the  Governor  and  his 
father  advising  them  of  the  formidable  honor  of  the 
Russian's  visit — in  exactly  the  temper  he  would  have 
chosen.  Her  fine  eyes  had  melted  and  run  over  at  the 
moving  tale  of  the  sufferings  of  the  servants  of  the 
Company — until  his  own  had  softened  in  response  and 


24    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

he  had  impulsively  kissed  her  hand;  they  had  dilated 
and  flashed  as  he  spoke  of  his  personal  apprehensions; 
and  when  he  had  given  her  a  practical  explanation  of 
his  reasons  for  coming  to  California  she  had  given  him 
advice  as  practical  in  return. 

He  must  withhold  from  her  father  and  the  Governor 
the  fact  of  his  pressing  need;  they  were  high  officials 
with  an  inflexible  sense  of  duty,  and  did  all  they  could 
to  enforce  the  law  against  trading  with  foreigners.  He 
was  to  maintain  the  fiction  of  belting  the  globe,  but 
admit  that  he  had  indulged  in  a  dream  of  commercial 
relations — for  a  benefit  strictly  mutual — between  neigh- 
bors as  close  as  the  Spanish  and  Eussians  in  America. 
This  would  interest  them — what  would  not,  on  the  edge 
of  the  world  ? — and  they  would  agree  to  lay  the  matter, 
reinforced  by  a  strong  personal  plea,  before  the  Viceroy 
of  Mexico;  who  in  turn  would  send  it  to  the  Cabinet 
and  King  at  Madrid.  Meanwhile,  he  was  to  confide  in 
the  priests  at  the  Mission.  Not  only  would  their  sym- 
pathies be  enlisted,  but  they  did  much  trading  under 
the  very  nose  of  the  government.  Not  for  personal  gain 
— they  were  vowed  to  a  life  of  poverty;  but  for  their 
Indian  converts,  and  there  were  twelve  hundred  at  the 
Mission  of  San  Francisco,  they  would  wink  at  many 
things  condemnable  in  the  abstract.  He  had  engaged 
to  visit  them  on  the  morrow,  and  he  must  take  presents 
to  tempt  their  impersonal  cupidity,  and  invite  them  to 
inspect  the  rest  of  his  wares — which  the  Governor  would 
be  informed  he  had  been  forced  to  buy  with  the  Juno 
from  the  Yankee  skipper,  D  'Wolf ,  and  would  rid  himself 
of  did  opportunity  offer. 

Kezanov  had  never  received  sounder  advice,  and  had 
promptly  accepted  it.  Now,  as  he  reflected  that  it  had 
been  given  by  a  girl  of  sixteen,  he  was  divided  between 
admiration  of  her  precocity  and  fear  lest  she  prove  to 
be  too  young  to  keep  a  secret.  Moreover,  there  were 
other  considerations. 

Rezanov,  although  in  his  earlier  years  he  had  so  far 
sacrificed  his  interests  and  played  into  the  hands  of 


REZANOV  25 

his  enemies,  in  avoiding  the  too  embarrassing  partiality 
of  Catherine  the  Great,  had  nevertheless  held  a  high 
place  at  court  by  right  of  birth,  and  been  a  man  of  the 
world  always;  rarely  absent  from  St.  Petersburg  dur- 
ing the  last  and  least  susceptible  part  of  the  imperial 
courtesan's  life,  the  brief  reign  of  Paul,  and  the  two 
years  between  the  accession  of  Alexander  and  the  sailing 
of  the  Nadeshda.  Moreover,  there  was  hardly  another 
court  of  importance  in  Europe  with  which  he  was  not 
familiar,  and  few  men  had  had  a  more  complete  ex- 
perience of  life.  And  the  life  of  a  courtier,  a  diplomat, 
a  traveller,  noble,  wealthy,  agreeable  to  women  by 
divine  right,  with  active  enemies  and  a  horde  of  flat- 
terers, in  daily  contact  with  the  meaner  and  more  dis- 
ingenuous corners  of  human  nature,  is  not  conducive 
to  a  broad  optimism  and  a  sweet  and  immutable  Chris- 
tianity. Rezanov  inevitably  was  more  or  less  cynical 
and  blase,  and  too  long  versed  in  the  ways  of  courts  and 
courtiers  to  retain  more  than  a  whimsical  tolerance  of 
the  naked  truth  and  an  appreciation  of  its  excellence 
as  a  diplomatic  manoeuvre.  Nevertheless,  he  was  by 
nature  too  impetuous  ever  to  become  under  any  provo- 
cation a  dishonest  man,  and  too  normally  a  gentleman 
to  deviate  from  a  certain  personal  code  of  honor.  He 
might  come  to  California  with  fair  words  and  a  very 
definite  intention  of  annexing  it  to  Russia  at  the  first 
opportunity,  but  he  was  incapable  of  abusing  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  Argiiellos  by  making  love  to  their  sixteen- 
year-old  daughter.  Had  she  been  of  the  years  he  had 
assumed,  he  would  have  had  less  scruple  in  embarking 
upon  a  flirtation,  both  for  the  pastime  and  the  use  he 
might  make  of  her.  A  Spanish  beauty  of  twenty,  still 
unmarried,  would  be  more  than  his  match.  But  a  child, 
however  precocious,  inevitably  would  fall  in  love  with 
the  first  uncommon  stranger  she  met ;  and  Rezanov,  less 
vain  than  most  men  of  his  kind,  and  with  a  fundamental 
humanity  that  was  the  chief  cause  in  his  efforts  to 
improve  the  condition  of  his  wretched  promuschleniki, 
had  no  taste  for  the  role  of  heart-breaker. 


26    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

But  the  girl  had  proved  her  timeliness;  would,  if 
trustworthy,  be  of  further  use  in  inclining  her  father 
and  the  Governor  toward  such  of  his  designs  as  he  had 
any  intention  of  revealing ;  and,  weighing  carefully  his 
conversations  with  her,  he  was  disposed  to  believe  that 
she  would  screen  and  abet  him  through  vanity  and  love 
of  intrigue.  After  the  dinner,  in  the  seclusion  of  the 
sala,  he  had  taken  pains  to  explore  for  the  causes  of 
her  mental  maturity.  Concha  had  told  him  of  Don 
Jose  Argiiello's  ambition  that  his  children  in  their  youth 
should  have  the  education  he  had  been  forced  to  acquire 
in  his  manhood;  he  had  taught  them  himself,  and  not- 
withstanding his  piety  and  the  disapproval  of  the  priests, 
had  permitted  them  to  read  the  histories,  travels,  and 
biographies  he  received  once  a  year  from  the  City  of 
Mexico.  Kezanov  had  met  Madame  de  Stael  and  other 
bas  bleus,  and  given  them  no  more  of  his  society  than 
politeness  demanded,  but  although  astonished  at  the 
amount  of  information  this  young  girl  had  assimilated, 
he  found  nothing  in  her  manner  of  wearing  her  intel- 
lectual crown  to  offend  his  fastidious  taste.  She  was 
wholly  artless  in  her  love  of  books  and  of  discussing 
them;  and  nothing  in  their  contents  had  disturbed  the 
sweetest  innocence  he  had  ever  met.  Of  the  little  arts 
of  coquetry  she  was  mistress  by  inheritance  and  much 
provocation,  but  her  unawakened  inner  life  breathed  the 
simplicity  and  purity  of  the  elemental  roses  that  hov- 
ered about  her  in  his  thoughts.  Her  very  unsuscepti- 
bility  made  the  game  more  dangerous ;  if  it  piqued  him — 
and  he  aspired  to  be  no  more  than  human — he  either 
should  have  to  marry  her,  or  nurse  a  sore  spot  in  his 
conscience  for  the  rest  of  his  life;  and  for  neither 
alternative  had  he  the  least  relish. 

He  dismissed  the  subject  at  last  with  an  impatient 
shrug.  Perhaps  he  was  a  conceited  ass,  as  his  English 
friends  would  say ;  perhaps  the  Governor  would  be  more 
amenable  than  she  had  represented.  No  man  could 
forecast  events.  It  was  enough  to  be  forearmed. 

But  his  thoughts  swung  to  a  theme  as  little  disbur- 


REZANOV  27 

dening.  His  needs,  as  he  had  confided  to  Concha,  were 
very  pressing.  The  dry  or  frozen  fish,  the  sea-dogs,  the 
fat  of  whales,  upon  which  the  employees  of  the  Com- 
pany were  forced  to  subsist  in  the  least  hospitable 
of  climes,  had  ravaged  them  with  scorbutic  diseases  until 
their  numbers  were  so  reduced  by  death  and  desertion 
that  there  was  danger  of  depopulation  and  the  conse- 
quent bankruptcy  of  the  Company.  Since  June  of  the 
preceding  year  until  his  departure  from  New  Archangel 
in  the  previous  month,  he  had  been  actively  engaged  in 
inspection  of  the  Company's  holdings  from  Kamchatka 
to  Sitka:  reforming  abuses,  establishing  schools  and 
libraries,  conceiving  measures  to  protect  the  fur-bearing 
animals  from  reckless  slaughter  both  by  the  pro- 
muschleniki  and  marauding  foreigners;  punishing  and 
banishing  the  worst  offenders  against  the  Company's 
laws;  encouraging  the  faithful,  and  sharing  hardships 
with  them  that  sent  memories  of  former  luxuries  and 
pleasures  scurrying  off  to  the  realms  of  fantasy.  But 
his  rule  would  be  incomplete  and  his  efforts  end  in 
failure  if  the  miserable  Russians  and  natives  in  the 
employ  of  the  Company  were  not  vitalized  by  proper 
food  and  cheered  with  the  hope  of  its  permanence. 

In  Santiago's  story  of  the  Russian  visitor's  achieve- 
ments and  status  there  was  the  common  mingling  of 
truth  and  fiction  the  exalted  never  fail  to  inspire.  Reza- 
nov, although  he  had  accomplished  great  ends  against 
greater  odds,  was  too  little  of  a  courtier  at  heart  ever 
to  have  been  a  prime  favorite  in  St.  Petersburg  until 
the  accession  of  a  ruler  with  whom  he  had  something  in 
common.  A  dissolute  woman  and  a  crack-brained  despot 
were  the  last  to  appreciate  an  original  and  independent 
mind,  and  the  seclusion  of  Alexander  had  been  so  com- 
plete during  the  lifetime  of  his  father  that  Rezanov 
barely  had  known  him  by  sight.  But  the  Tsarovitz, 
enthusiastic  for  reform  and  a  passionate  admirer  of 
enterprise,  knew  of  Rezanov,  and  no  sooner  did  he 
mount  his  gory  throne  than  he  confirmed  the  Chamber- 
lain in  his  enterprise,  and  two  years  later  made  him  a 


28    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Privy  Counsellor,  invested  him  with  the  order  of  St. 
Ann,  and  chose  him  for  the  critical  embassy  to  the 
verdant  realm  with  the  blind  and  gateless  walls. 

Rezanov  had  conquered  so  far  in  life  even  less  by 
address  than  by  the  demonstration  of  abilities  very 
singular  in  a  man  of  his  birth  and  education.  When 
he  met  Shelikov,  during  the  Siberian  merchant-trader's 
visit  to  St.  Petersburg  in  1788,  he  was  a  young 
man  with  little  interest  in  life  outside  of  its  pleas- 
ures, and  a  patrimony  that  enabled  him  to  com- 
mand them  to  no  great  extent  and  barely  to  main- 
tain the  dignity  of  his  rank.  Shelikov 's  plan  to  obtain 
a  monopoly  of  the  fur  trade  in  the  islands  and  terri- 
tories added  by  his  Company  to  Russia,  possibly  through- 
out the  entire  possession,  thus  preventing  the  destruc- 
tion of  sables,  seals,  otters,  and  foxes  by  small  traders 
and  foreigners,  interested  him  at  once;  or  possibly  he 
was  merely  fascinated  at  first  by  the  shrewd  and  daunt- 
less representative  of  a  class  with  which  he  had  never 
before  come  in  contact.  The  accidental  acquaintance 
ripened  into  intimacy,  Rezanov  became  a  partner  in  the 
Shelikov- Golikov  Company,  and  married  the  daughter 
of  his  new  friend.  After  the  death  of  his  father-in- 
law,  in  1795,  his  ambitions  and  business  abilities,  now 
fully  awake,  prompted  him  to  obtain  for  himself  and 
his  partners  rights  analogous  to  those  granted  by  Eng- 
land to  the  East  India  Company.  Shelikov  had  won 
little  more  than  half  the  power  and  privileges  he  had 
solicited  of  Catherine,  although  he  had  amalgamated 
the  two  leading  companies,  drawn  in  several  others,  and 
built  ships  and  factories  and  forts  to  protect  them. 
And  if  the  regnant  merchants  made  large  fortunes,  the 
enterprise  in  general  suffered  from  the  rivalries  between 
the  various  companies,  and  above  all  from  lack  of 
imperial  support. 

Rezanov,  his  plans  made,  brought  to  bear  all  the 
considerable  influence  he  was  able  to  command,  called 
upon  all  his  resources  of  brain  and  address,  and  brought 
Catherine  to  the  point  of  consenting  to  sign  the  charter 


REZANOV  29 

he  needed.  Before  it  was  ready  for  the  imperial  signa- 
ture she  died.  Rezanov  was  forced  to  begin  again  with 
her  ill-balanced  and  intractable  son.  Natalie  Shelikov, 
his  famous  mother-in-law,  the  old  shareholders  of  the 
Company,  and  the  many  new  ones  that  had  subscribed 
to  Rezanov 's  ambitious  project,  gave  themselves  up  to 
despair.  For  a  time  the  outlook  was  dark.  The  personal 
enemies  of  Rezanov  and  the  bitter  and  persistent  op- 
ponents of  the  companies  threw  themselves  eagerly  into 
the  scale  with  tales  of  the  brutality  of  the  merchants 
and  the  threatened  extirpation  of  the  fur-bearing  ani- 
mals. Paul  announced  his  intention  to  abolish  all  the 
companies  and  close  the  colonies  to  traders  big  and 
little. 

But  the  enemy  had  a  very  subtle  antagonist  in 
Kezanov.  Apparently  dismissing  the  subject,  he  applied 
himself  to  gaining  a  personal  ascendancy  over  the  erratic 
but  impressionable  Tsar.  No  one  in  the  opposing  camp 
could  compare  with  him  in  that  fine  balance  of  charm 
and  brain  which  was  his  peculiar  gift,  or  in  the  adroit 
manipulation  of  a  mind  propelled  mainly  by  vanity. 
He  studied  Paul's  moods  and  character,  discovered  that 
after  some  senseless  act  of  oppression  he  suffered  from 
a  corresponding  remorse,  and  was  susceptible  to  any 
plan  that  would  increase  his  power  and  add  lustre 
to  his  name.  The  commercial  and  historic  advantages 
of  prosperous  northeastern  possessions  were  artfully 
instilled.  At  the  opportune  moment  Kezanov  laid  before 
him  a  scheme,  mature  in  every  detail,  for  a  great  com- 
pany that  would  add  to  the  wealth  of  Russia,  and  con- 
vince Europe  of  the  sound  commercial  sense  and  immor- 
tal wisdom  of  its  sovereign.  "Without  more  ado  he 
obtained  his  charter. 

This  momentous  instrument  granted  to  the  "Russian- 
American  Company  under  our  Highest  Protection," 
"full  privileges,  for  a  period  of  twenty  years  on  the 
coast  of  northwestern  America,  beginning  from  latitude 
55  degrees  north,  and  including  the  chain  of  islands  ex- 
tending from  Kamchatka  northward,  and  southward  to 


30    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Japan;  the  exclusive  right  to  all  enterprises,  whether 
hunting,  trading,  or  building,  and  to  new  discoveries; 
with  strict  prohibition  from  profiting  from  any  of  these 
pursuits,  not  only  to  all  parties  who  might  engage  in 
them  on  their  own  responsibility,  but  also  to  those  who 
formerly  had  ships  and  establishments  there,  except 
those  who  have  united  with  the  new  Company."  All 
private  traders  who  refused  to  join  the  Company  were 
to  be  allowed  to  sell  their  property  and  depart  in  peace. 

Thus  was  formed  the  first  Trust  Company  of  America ; 
and  the  United  States  never  has  had  so  formidable  a 
menace  to  her  territorial  greatness  as  this  Russian 
nobleman  who  paced  that  night  the  wretched  deck  of  the 
little  ship  he  had  bought  from  one  of  her  skippers. 
Perturbed  in  mind  at  his  recent  failures  and  immediate 
prospects,  he  was  no  less  determined  to  take  California 
from  the  Spaniards  either  by  absorption  or  force. 

On  his  way  from  New  Archangel  to  San  Francisco 
he  had  met  with  his  second  failure  since  leaving  St. 
Petersburg.  It  was  his  intention  to  move  the  Sitkan 
colony  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River,  not 
only  pressed  by  the  need  of  a  more  beneficent  soil, 
but  as  a  first  insidious  advance  upon  San  Francisco 
Bay.  Upon  this  trip  it  would  be  enough  to  make  a 
survey  of  the  ground  and  bury  a  copper  plate  inscribed : 
" Possession  of  the  Russian  Empire."  The  Juno  had 
encountered  terrific  storms.  After  three  desperate 
attempts  to  reach  the  mouth  of  the  river,  Rezanov  had 
been  forced  to  relinquish  the  enterprise  for  the  moment 
and  hasten  with  his  diseased  and  almost  useless  crew 
to  the  nearest  port.  It  was  true  that  the  attempt  could 
be  made  again  later,  but  Rezanov,  sanguine  of  tempera- 
ment, was  correspondingly  depressed  by  failure  and 
disposed  to  regard  it  as  an  ill-omen. 

An  ambassador  inspired  by  heaven  could  have  accom- 
plished no  more  with  the  Japanese  at  that  mediaeval 
stage  of  their  development  than  he  had  done,  and  the 
most  indomitable  of  men  cannot  yet  control  the  winds 
of  heaven ;  but  sovereigns  are  rarely  governed  by  logic, 


REZANOV  31 

and  frequently  by  the  favorite  at  hand.  The  privilege 
of  writing  personally  to  the  Tsar,  in  his  case,  meant 
more  and  less  than  appeared  on  the  surface.  It  was  a 
measure  to  keep  the  reports  of  the  Company  out  of 
the  hands  of  the  Admiralty  College,  its  bitterest  enemy, 
and  always  jealous  of  the  Civil  Service.  Nevertheless, 
Kezanov  knew  that  he  had  no  immediate  reason  to 
apprehend  the  loss  of  Alexander's  friendship  and 
esteem ;  and  if  he  placed  the  Company,  in  which  all  the 
imperial  family  had  bought  shares,  on  a  sounder  basis 
than  ever  before,  and  doubled  its  earnings  by  insuring 
the  health  of  its  employees,  he  would  meet,  when  in  St. 
Petersburg  again,  with  practically  no  opposition  to  his 
highest  ambitions.  These  ambitions  he  deliberately  kept 
in  a  fluid  state  for  the  present.  Whether  he  should 
aspire  to  great  authority  in  the  government,  or  choose 
to  rule  with  the  absolute  powers  of  the  Tsar  himself 
these  already  vast  possessions  on  the  Pacific — to  be  ex- 
tended indefinitely — would  be  decided  by  events.  All 
his  inherited  and  cultivated  instincts  yearned  for  the 
brilliant  and  complex  civilizations  of  Europe,  but  the 
new  world  had  taken  a  firm  hold  upon  his  humaner  and 
appealed  more  insidiously  to  his  despotic.  Moreover, 
Europe,  torn  up  by  that  human  earthquake,  Napoleon 
Bonaparte,  must  lose  the  greater  half  of  its  sweetness 
and  savor.  All  that,  however,  could  be  determined  upon 
his  return  to  St.  Petersburg  in  the  autumn. 

But  meanwhile  he  must  succeed  with  these  Califor- 
nians,  or  they  might  prove,  toy  soldiers  as  they  were, 
more  perilous  to  his  fortunes  than  enemies  at  court. 
He  could  not  afford  another  failure;  and  news  of  this 
attempt  and  an  exposition  of  all  that  depended  upon 
it  were  already  on  the  road  to  the  capital  of  Russia. 

He  had  known,  of  course,  of  the  law  that  forbade  the 
Spanish  colonies  to  trade  with  foreign  ships,  but  he  had 
relied  partly  upon  the  use  he  could  make  of  the  orders 
given  by  the  Spanish  King  at  the  request  of  the  Tsar 
regarding  the  expedition  under  Krusenstern,  partly 
upon  his  own  wit  and  address.  But  although  the  royal 


32    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

order  had  insured  him  immediate  hospitality  and  saved 
him  many  wearisome  formalities,  he  had  already  dis- 
covered that  the  Spanish  on  the  far  rim  of  their  empire 
had  lost  nothing  of  their  connate  suspicion.  Rather, 
their  isolation  made  them  the  more  wary.  Although 
they  little  appreciated  the  richness  and  variousness  of 
California's  soil,  and  not  at  all  this  wonderful  bay  that 
could  accommodate  the  combined  navies  of  the  world, 
pocketing  several,  the  pious  zeal  of  the  clergy  in  behalf 
of  the  Indians,  and  the  general  policy  of  Spain  to  hold 
all  of  the  western  hemisphere  that  disintegrating  forces 
would  permit,  made  her  as  tenacious  of  this  vast  terri- 
tory she  had  so  sparsely  populated  as  had  she  been 
aware  that  its  foundations  were  of  gold,  conceived  that 
its  climate  and  soil  were  a  more  enduring  source  of 
wealth  than  ever  she  would  command  again.  If  Rezanov 
was  not  gifted  with  the  prospector's  sense  for  ores — al- 
though he  had  taken  note  of  Argiiello's  casual  reference 
to  a  vein  of  silver  and  lead  in  the  Monterey  hills — no 
man  ever  more  thoroughly  appreciated  the  visible  re- 
sources of  California  than  he.  Baranhov,  chief-manager 
of  the  Company,  had  talked  with  American  and  British 
skippers  for  twenty  years,  and  every  item  he  had  accu- 
mulated Rezanov  had  extracted.  To-day  he  had  drawn 
further  information  from  Concha  and  her  brothers; 
and  their  artless  descriptions  as  well  as  this  incompara- 
ble bay  had  filled  him  with  enthusiasm.  What  a  gift 
to  Russia !  What  an  achievement  to  his  immortal  credit ! 
The  fog  had  rolled  in  from  the  Pacific  in  great  white 
waves  and  stealthily  enfolded  him,  obliterated  the  sea 
and  the  land.  But  he  did  not  see  it.  Apprehension  left 
him.  Once  more  he  fell  to  dreaming.  In  the  course  of 
a  few  years  the  Company  would  attract  a  large  popula- 
tion to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River,  be  strong 
enough  to  make  use  of  any  favorable  turn  in  European 
politics  and  sweep  down  upon  California.  The  geo- 
graphical position  of  Mexico,  the  arid  and  desolate, 
herbless  and  waterless  wastes  intervening,  would  pro- 
hibit her  sending  any  considerable  assistance  overland ; 


REZANOV  33 

and,  all  powerful  at  court  by  that  time,  he  would  take 
care  that  the  Russian  navy  inspired  Spain  with  a  distaste 
for  remote  Pacific  waters.  He  had  long  since  recovered 
from  the  disappointment  induced  by  the  orders  com- 
pelling him  to  remain  in  the  colonies.  The  great  Com- 
pany he  had  heretofore  regarded  merely  as  a  source  of 
income  and  a  means  of  advancing  his  ambitions,  he  now 
loved  as  his  child.  Even  during  the  marches  over  frozen 
swamps  and  mountains,  during  the  terrible  winter  in 
Sitka  when  he  had  become  familiar  with  illness  and  even 
with  hunger,  his  ardor  had  grown,  as  well  as  his  deter- 
mination to  force  Russia  into  the  front  rank  of  commer- 
cial Europe.  The  United  States  he  barely  considered. 
He  respected  the  new  country  for  the  independent 
spirit  and  military  genius  that  had  routed  so  powerful 
a  nation  as  Great  Britain,  but  he  thought  of  her  only 
as  a  new  and  tentative  civilization  on  the  far  shores 
of  the  Atlantic.  After  some  experience  of  travel  in 
Siberia,  and  knowing  the  immensity  and  primeval  con- 
ditions of  northwestern  America,  he  did  not  think  it 
probable  that  the  little  cluster  of  states,  barely  able  to 
walk  alone,  would  indulge  in  dreams  of  expansion  for 
many  years  to  come.  He  had  heard  of  the  projected 
expedition  of  Lewis  and  Clarke  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia,  but — perhaps  he  was  too  Russian — he  did 
not  take  any  adventure  seriously  that  had  not  a  mighty 
nation  at  its  back.  And  as  it  was  almost  the  half  of  a 
century  from  that  night  before  the  American  flag  flew 
over  the  Custom  House  of  Monterey,  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  Russian  aggression  under  the  leadership  of 
so  energetic  and  resourceful  a  spirit  as  Nicolai  Petrovich 
de  Rezanov  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make  history  first  in 
the  New  Albion  of  Drake  and  the  California  of  the 
incompetent  Spaniard. 


THE  Russians  were  to  call  at  the  house  of  the  Com- 
mandante  on  their  way  to  the  Mission,  and  Concha  her- 
self made  the  chocolate  with  which  they  were  to  be 
detained  for  an  hour.  It  was  another  sparkling  morn- 
ing, one  of  the  few  that  came  between  whiter  and 
summer,  summer  and  winter,  and  made  even  this  bleak 
peninsula  a  land  of  enchantment  before  the  cold  winds 
took  the  sand  hills  up  by  their  foundations  and  drove 
them  down  to  Yerba  Buena,  submerging  the  battery  and 
every  green  thing  by  the  way;  or  the  great  fogs  rolled 
dewn  from  the  tule  lands  of  the  north  and  in  from  the 
sea,  making  the  shivering  San  Franciscan  forget  that 
not  ten  miles  away  the  sun  was  as  prodigal  as  youth. 
For  a  few  weeks  San  Francisco  had  her  springtime, 
when  the  days  were  warm  and  the  air  of  a  wonderful 
lightness  and  brightness,  the  atmosphere  so  clear  that 
the  flowers  might  be  seen  on  the  islands,  when  man 
walked  with  wings  on  his  feet  and  a  song  in  his  heart; 
when  the  past  was  done  with,  the  future  mattered  not, 
the  present  with  its  ever  changing  hues  on  bay  and 
hill,  its  cool  electrical  breezes  stirring  imagination  and 
pulse,  was  all  in  all. 

And  it  was  in  San  Francisco 's  springtime  that  Concha 
Argiiello  made  chocolate  for  the  Russian  to  whom  she 
was  to  give  a  niche  in  the  history  of  her  land;  and 
sang  at  her  task.  She  whirled  the  molinillo  in  each 
cup  as  it  was  filled,  whipping  the  fragrant  liquid  to 
froth;  pausing  only  to  scold  when  her  servant  stained 
one  of  the  dainty  saucers  or  cups.  Poor  Rosa  did  not 
sing,  although  the  spring  attuned  her  broken  spirit  to 
a  gentler  melancholy  than  when  the  winds  howled  and 
the  fog  was  cold  in  her  marrow.  She  had  been  sen- 


REZANOV  35 

tenced  by  the  last  Governor,  the  wise  Borica,  to  eight 
years  of  domestic  servitude  in  the  house  of  Don  Jose 
Argiiello  for  abetting  her  lover  in  the  murder  of  his 
wife.  Concha,  thoughtless  in  many  things,  did  what  she 
could  to  exorcise  the  terror  and  despair  that  stared  from 
the  eyes  of  the  Indian,  and  puzzled  her  deeply.  Kosa 
adored  her  young  mistress  and  exulted  even  when 
Concha's  voice  rose  in  wrath;  for  was  not  she  noticed 
by  the  loveliest  senorita  in  all  the  Californias,  while 
others,  envious  and  spiteful  to  a  poor  girl  no  worse 
than  themselves,  were  ignored? 

Concha's  cheeks  were  as  pink  as  the  Castilian  roses 
that  grew  even  before  the  kitchen  door  and  were  quiver- 
ing at  the  moment  under  the  impassioned  carolling  of  a 
choir  of  larks.  Her  black  eyes  were  full  of  dancing 
lights,  like  the  imprisoned  sun-flecks  under  the  rose 
bush,  and  never  had  indolent  Spanish  hands  moved  so 
quickly. 

1 '  Mira !  Mira ! "  she  cried  to  the  luckless  Rosa.  ' '  That 
is  the  third  time  thou  hast  spilt  the  chocolate.  Thy 
hands  are  of  wood  when  they  should  be  of  air.  A  soft 
bit  of  linen  to  clean  them,  not  that  coarse  rag.  Dios 
de  mi  alma!  I  shall  send  for  Malia." 

"For  the  love  of  Mary,  senorita,  have  pity!"  wailed 
Rosa.  "There— see — thanks  to  the  Virgin  I  have 
poured  three  cups  without  spilling  a  drop.  And  this 
rag  is  of  soft  linen.  Look,  Dona  Concha,  is  it  not  true  ? ' ' 

"Bueno;  take  care  thou  leavest  not  one  drop  on  a 
saucer  and  I  will  forgive  thee — do  not  kiss  my  hand 
now,  foolish  one !  How  can  I  whirl  the  molinillo  ?  Be 
always  good  and  I  will  burn  a  candle  for  thee  every 
time  I  go  to  the  Mission.  The  Russians  go  to  the  Mission 
this  morning.  Hast  thou  seen  the  Russians,  Rosa?" 

"I  have  seen  them,  senorita.  Did  I  not  serve  at 
table  yesterday  ? ' ' 

"True;  I  had  forgotten.  What  didst  thou  think  of 
them?" 

"What  matters  it  to  such  great  folk  what  a  poor 
Indian  girl  thinks  of  them?  They  are  very  fair,  which 


36    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

may  be  the  fashion  in  their  country;  but  I  am  not 
accustomed  to  it;  and  I  like  not  beards." 

"His  excellency  wore  no  beard — he  who  sat  on  my 
mother's  right  and  opposite  to  me." 

"He  is  very  grand,  seiiorita;  more  grand  than  the 
Governor,  who  after  all  has  red  hair  and  is  old.  He  is 
even  grander  than  Don  Jose,  whom  may  the  saints 
preserve;  or  than  the  padres  at  the  Mission.  Perhaps 
he  is  a  king,  like  our  King  and  natural  lord  in  Spain. 
(El  rey  nuestro  y  senor  natural.)  Is  he  a  king, 
senorita  ? ' ' 

"No,  but  he  should  be.  Rosa,  thou  mayst  have  my 
red  cloak  that  came  from  Mexico — last  year.  I  have  a 
new  one  and  that  is  too  small.  I  had  intended  to  give 
it  to  Ana  Paula,  but  thou  art  a  good  girl  and  should 
have  a  gay  mantle  for  Sunday,  like  the  other  girls. 
I  have  also  a  red  ribbon  for  thy  hair " 

Rosa  spilt  half  the  contents  of  the  chocolate  pot  on 
the  floor  and  Concha  gave  her  a  sound  box  on  the  ear. 
However,  she  did  not  dismiss  her,  a  sentence  for  which 
the  trembling  girl  prepared  herself. 

"Make  more — quickly!"  cried  the  lady  of  caprice. 
"They  come.  I  hear  them.  But  this  is  enough  for 
the  first.  Make  the  rest  and  beat  with  the  molinillo  as 
I  have  done,  and  Malia  will  bring  all  to  the  corridor." 

She  ran  to  her  room  and  her  mirror.  Both  were 
small,  the  room  little  more  luxurious  than  the  cell  of 
a  nun.  But  the  roses  hung  over  the  window,  the  birds 
had  built  in  the  eaves,  and  over  the  wall  the  sun  shone 
in.  In  one  corner  was  an  altar  and  a  crucifix.  If  the 
walls  were  rough  and  white,  they  were  as  spotless  as 
the  hands  that  shook  out  and  then  twisted  high  the  fine 
dusky  masses  of  hair.  When  a  fold  had  been  drawn 
down  over  either  ear,  in  the  modest  fashion  of  the 
California  maid  and  wife,  and  the  tall  shell  comb  had 
fastened  the  rest,  Concha  instead  of  finishing  the  head- 
dress with  her  long  Spanish  pins,  divested  the  stems 
of  two  half -blown  roses  of  their  thorns  and  thrust  them 
obliquely  through  the  knot.  Her  dress  was  of  simple 


REZANOV  37 

white  linen  made  with  a  very  full  skirt  and  little  round 
jacket,  but  embroidered  by  her  own  deft  fingers  with 
the  color  she  loved  best.  She  patted  her  frock,  rolled 
down  her  sleeves,  and  went  out  to  the  "  corridor "  to 
stand  demurely  behind  her  mother  as  the  Russians, 
escorted  by  Father  Ramon  Abella,  rode  into  the  square. 

Rezanov  had  intended  merely  to  pay  a  call  of  cere- 
mony upon  the  hospitable  Argiiellos,  but  after  he  had 
dismounted  and  kissed  the  hands  of  the  smiling  senora 
and  her  beautiful  daughter  he  was  nothing  loath  to 
linger  over  a  cup  of  chocolate. 

It  was  served  out  there  in  the  shade  of  the  vines. 
Rezanov  and  Concha  sat  on  the  railing,  and  the  man 
stared  over  his  cup  at  the  girl  with  the  roses  touching 
her  cheek  and  ruffling  her  hair. 

"Do  you  like  chocolate,  senor?"  asked  Concha,  who 
was  not  in  the  intellectual  mood  of  yesterday.  * 1 1  made 
it  myself — I  and  my  poor  Rosa." 

"It  is  the  most  delectable  foam  I  have  ever  tasted.  I 
am  interested  to  know  that  it  has  the  solid  foundation 
of  a  name.  What  is  the  matter  with  your  Rosa?" 

"She  is  an  unfortunate.  Her  lover  killed  his  wife, 
and  it  is  said  that  she  is  not  innocent  herself.  The 
lover  serves  in  chains  for  eight  years,  and  she  is  with 
us  that  we  may  make  her  repent  and  keep  her  from 
further  sin.  She  is  very  unhappy  and  will  marry  the 
man  when  his  punishment  is  over.  I  am  very  sorry 
for  her." 

' '  Fancy  you  living  close  to  a  woman  like  that !  I  find 
it  detestable." 

"Why? — if  I  can  do  her  good — and  make  her  happy, 
sometimes  ? ' ' 

"Does  she  ever  talk  about  her  life — before  she  came 
here?" 

' '  Oh,  no ;  she  is  far  too  sad.  Once  only,  when  I  told 
her  I  would  pray  for  her  in  the  Mission,  she  asked  me 
to  burn  a  candle  that  her  lover  might  serve  his  sentence 
more  quickly  arid  come  out  and  marry  her.  Will  you 
light  one  for  her  to-day,  senor?" 


38    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure;  if  you  really  want  your 
maid  to  marry  a  man  who  no  doubt  will  murder  her  for 
the  sake  of  some  other  woman/' 

"Oh,  surely  not!  He  loves  her.  I  know  that  many 
men  love  more  than  once,  but  when  they  are  punished 
like  that,  they  must  remember." 

"Is  it  true  that  you  are  only  sixteen?  Is  that  an 
impertinent  question?  I  cannot  help  it.  Those  years 
are  so  few,  and  so  much  wisdom  has  gone  into  that 
little  head." 

"Sixteen  is  quite  old."  Concha  drew  herself  up  with 
an  air  of  offended  dignity.  "Elena  Castro,  who  lives 
on  the  other  side,  is  but  eighteen  and  she  has  three 
little  ones.  The  Virgin  brought  them  in  the  night  and 
left  them  in  the  big  rosebush  you  see  before  the  door — 
one  at  a  time,  of  course.  Only  the  old  nurse  knew ;  the 
Virgin  whispered  it  while  she  was  saying  a  prayer  for 
Elena;  and  early  in  the  morning  she  came  and  found 
the  dear  little  baby  and  put  it  in  Elena's  arms.  I  am 
the  godmother  of  the  first — Conchitita.  In  Santa  Bar- 
bara, where  we  lived  for  some  years,  Anita  Amanda 
Carillo,  the  friend  of  Ana  Paula,  is  married,  although 
she  is  but  twelve  and  sits  on  the  floor  all  day  and  plays 
with  her  dolls.  She  prays  every  night  to  the  Virgin 
to  bring  her  a  real  baby,  but  she  is  not  old  enough 
to  take  care  of  it  and  must  wait.  Twelve  is  too  young 
to  marry."  Concha  shook  her  head.  Her  eyes  were 
wise,  and  Eezanov  noted  anew  that  her  mouth  alone 
was  as  young  as  her  years.  "My  father  would  not  per- 
mit such  a  thing.  I  am  glad  he  is  not  anxious  we 
should  marry  soon.  I  should  love  to  have  the  babies, 
though;  they  are  so  sweet  to  play  with  and  make  little 
dresses  for.  But  my  mother  says  the  Virgin  does  not 
bring  the  little  ones  to  good  girls — poor  Rosa  had  one 
but  it  died — until  their  parents  find  them  a  husband 

first.  I  have  never  wanted  a  husband "  Concha 

darted  a  swift  glance  over  her  shoulder,  but  Santiago 
was  in  the  clutches  of  the  learned  doctor  and  wishing 


REZANO  V  39 

that  he  knew  no  Latin;  "so  I  go  every  day  and  play 
with  Elena's  babies,  which  is  well  enough." 

Bezanov  listened  to  this  innocent  revelation  with  the 
utmost  gravity,  but  for  the  first  time  in  many  years 
he  was  conscious  of  a  novel  fascination  in  a  sex  to 
which  he  had  paid  no  niggard's  tribute.  In  his  world 
the  married  woman  reigned;  it  was  doubtful  if  he  had 
ever  had  ten  minutes'  conversation  with  a  young  girl 
before,  never  with  one  whose  face  and  form  were  as 
arresting  as  her  crystal  purity.  He  was  fascinated, 
but  more  than  ever  on  his  guard.  As  he  rode  over 
the  sand  hills  to  the  Mission  she  clung  fast  to  his 
thoughts  and  he  speculated  upon  the  woman  hidden 
away  in  the  depths  of  that  lovely  shell  like  the  deep 
color  within  the  tight  Castilian  buds  that  opened  so 
slowly.  He  recalled  the  personalities  of  the  young  officers 
that  surrounded  her.  They  were  charming  fellows, 
gay,  kindly,  honest ;  but  he  felt  sure  that  not  one  of  them 
was  fit  to  hold  the  cup  of  life  to  the  exquisite  young 
lips  of  Concha  Argiiello.  The  very  thought  disposed 
him  to  twist  their  necks. 


VI 

THE  Mission  San  Francisco  de  Assisi  stood  at  the  head 
of  a  great  valley  about  a  league  from  the  Presidio  and 
facing  the  eastern  hills.  Behind  it,  yet  not  too  close, 
for  the  priests  were  ever  on  their  guard  against  Indians 
more  lustful  of  loot  than  salvation,  was  a  long  irregular 
chain  of  hills,  breaking  into  twin  peaks  on  its  highest 
ridge,  with  a  lone  mountain  outstanding.  It  was  an 
imposing  but  forbidding  mass,  as  steep  and  bare  as 
the  walls  of  a  fortress;  but  in  the  distance,  north  and 
south,  as  the  range  curved  in  a  tapering  arc  that  gave 
the  valley  the  appearance  of  a  colossal  stadium,  the 
outlines  were  soft  in  a  haze  of  pale  color.  The  sheltered 
valley  between  the  western  heights  and  the  sand  hills 
far  down  by  the  bay  where  it  turned  to  the  south,  was 
green  with  wheat  fields,  and  a  small  herd  of  cattle 
grazed  on  the  lower  slopes.  The  beauty  of  this  superbly 
proportioned  valley  was  further  enhanced  by  groves 
of  oaks  and  bay  trees,  and  by  a  lagoon,  communicating 
with  an  arm  of  the  bay,  which  the  priests  had  named  for 
their  Lady  of  Sorrows — Nuestra  Sefiora  de  los  Dolores. 
The  little  sheet  of  water  was  almost  round,  very  green 
and  set  in  a  thicket  of  willows  that  were  green,  too,  in 
the  springtime,  and  golden  in  summer.  Near  its  banks, 
or  closer  to  the  protecting  Mission — on  whose  land  grant 
they  were  built — were  the  comfortable  adobe  homes  of 
the  few  Spanish  pioneers  that  preferred  the  bracing 
north  to  the  monotonous  warmth  of  the  south.  Some 
of  these  houses  were  long  and  rambling,  others  built 
about  a  court ;  all  were  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  en- 
closing a  garden  where  the  Castilian  roses  grew  even 
more  luxuriantly  than  at  the  Presidio.  The  walls,  like 
the  houses,  were  white,  and  on  those  of  Don  Juan 

40 


REZANOV  41 

Moraga,  a  cousin  of  Dona  Ignacia  Argiiello,  the  roses 
had  been  trained  to  form  a  border  along  the  top  in  a 
fashion  that  reminded  Rezanov  of  the  pink-edged  walls 
of  Fiesole. 

The  white  red-tiled  church  and  the  long  line  of  rooms 
adjoining  were  built  of  adobe  with  no  effort  at  grandeur, 
but  with  a  certain  noble  simplicity  of  outline  that  har- 
monized not  only  with  the  lofty  reserve  of  the  hills  but 
with  the  innocent  hope  of  creating  a  soul  in  the  lowest 
of  human  bipeds.  The  Indians  of  San  Francisco  were 
as  immedicable  as  they  were  hideous-;  but  the  fathers 
belabored  them  with  sticks  and  heaven  with  prayer, 
and  had  so  far  succeeded  that  if  as  yet  they  had  sown 
piety  no  higher  than  the  knees  they  had  trained  some 
twelve  hundred  pairs  of  hands  to  useful  service. 

On  the  right  was  a  graveyard,  with  little  in  it  as 
yet  but  rose  trees;  behind  the  church  and  the  many 
spacious  rooms  built  for  the  consolation  of  virtue  in  the 
wilderness  was  a  large  building  surrounding  a  court. 
Girls  and  young  widows  occupied  the  cells  on  the  north 
side,  and  the  work  rooms  on  the  east,  while  the  youths, 
under  the  sharp  eye  of  a  lay  brother,  were  opposite. 
All  lived  a  life  of  unwilling  industry:  cleaning  and 
combing  wool,  spinning,  weaving,  manufacturing  choco- 
late, grinding  corn  between  stones,  making  shoes,  fash- 
ioning the  simple  garments  worn  by  priest  and  Indian. 
Between  the  main  group  of  buildings  and  the  natural 
rampart  of  the  "San  Bruno  Mountains"  was  the 
Rancheria,  where  the  Indian  families  lived  in  eight  long 
rows  of  isolated  huts. 

In  spite  of  vigilance  an  Indian  escaped  now  and  again 
to  the  mountains,  where  he  could  lie  naked  in  the  sun 
and  curse  the  fetich  of  civilization.  As  the  Russians 
approached,  a  friar,  with  deer-skin  armor  over  his 
cassock,  was  tugging  at  a  recalcitrant  mule,  while  a 
body-guard  of  four  Indians  stood  ready  to  attend  him 
down  the  coast  in  search  of  an  enviable  brother.  The 
mule,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the  fugitive,  had  planted 
his  four  feet  in  the  earth  and  lifted  his  voice  in  derision, 


42    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

while  the  young  friar,  a  recruit  at  the  Mission,  and 
far  from  enamored  of  his  task,  strained  at  the  rope, 
and  an  Indian  pelted  the  hindquarters  with  stones. 
Suddenly,  the  mule  flung  out  his  heels,  the  enemy  in  the 
rear  sprawled,  the  rope  flew  loose,  the  beast  with  a 
loud  bray  fled  toward  the  willows  of  Dolores.  But  the 
young  priest  was  both  agile  and  angry.  With  a  flying 
leap  he  reached  the  heaving  back.  The  mule  acknowl- 
edged himself  conquered.  The  body-guard  trotted  on 
their  own  feet,  and  the  party  disappeared  round  a  bend 
of  the  hills. 

Rezanov  laughed  heartily  and  even  the  glum  visage 
of  Father  Abella  relaxed. 

"It  is  a  common  sight,  Excellency,"  he  said.  "We 
are  thankful  to  have  a  younger  friar  for  such  fatiguing 
work.  Many  a  time  have  I  belabored  stubborn  mules 
and  bestrode  bucking  mustangs  while  searching  for  one 
of  these  ungrateful  but  no  doubt  chosen  creatures.  It 
is  the  will  of  God,  and  we  make  no  complaint;  but  we 
are  very  willing,  Father  Landaeta  and  I,  that  youth 
should  cool  its  ardor  in  so  certain  a  fashion  while  we 
attend  to  the  more  reasonable  duties  at  home." 

They  dismounted  at  the  door  of  the  church.  The 
horses  were  led  off  by  waiting  Indians.  The  soldiers 
on  guard  saluted  and  stepped  aside,  and  the  party 
entered.  Two  priests  in  handsome  vestments  stood  be- 
fore the  altar,  but  the  long  dim  nave  was  empty.  The 
Russians  had  been  told  that  a  mass  would  be  said  in 
their  honor,  and  they  marched  down  the  church  and 
bent  their  knees  with  as  much  ceremony  as  had  they 
been  of  the  faith  of  their  hosts.  When  the  short  mass 
was  over,  Rezanov  bethought  himself  of  Concha's  re- 
quest, and  whispering  its  purport  to  Father  Abella  was 
led  to  a  double  iron  hoop  stuck  with  tallow  dips  in 
various  stages  of  petition.  Rezanov  lit  a  candle  and 
fastened  it  in  an  empty  socket.  Then  with  a  whim- 
sical twist  of  his  mouth  he  lit  and  adjusted  another. 

"No  doubt  she  has  some  fervent  wish,  like  all  chil- 
dren," he  thought  apologetically.  "And  whether  this 


KEZANOV  43 

will  help  her  to  realize  it  or  not,  at  least  it  will  be  inter- 
esting to  watch  her  eyes — and  mouth — when  I  tell  her. 
Will  she  melt,  or  flash,  or  receive  my  offering  at  her 
shrine  as  a  matter  of  course  ?  I  '11  surprise  her  to-night 
in  the  middle  of  a  dance. ' ' 

He  deposited  a  gold  piece  among  the  candles  on  the 
table  and  followed  Father  Abella  through  a  side  door. 
A  corridor  ran  behind  the  long  line  of  rooms  designed 
not  only  for  priests  but  for  the  travellers  always  sure 
of  a  welcome  at  these  hospitable  Missions.  Father 
Abella  shuffled  ahead,  halted  on  the  threshold  of  a  large 
room,  and  ceremoniously  invited  his  guests  to  enter.  Two 
other  priests  stood  before  a  table  set  with  wine  and 
delicate  confections,  their  hands  concealed  in  their  wide 
brown  sleeves,  but  their  unmatched  physiognomies — the 
one  lean  and  jovial,  the  other  plump  and  resigned — 
alight  with  the  same  smile  of  welcome.  Father  Abella 
mentioned  them  as  his  coadjutor  Father  Martin 
Landaeta,  and  their  guest  Father  Jose  Uria  of  San 
Jose ;  and  then  the  three,  with  the  scant  rites  of  genuine 
hospitality,  applied  themselves  to  the  tickling  of  palates 
long  unused  to  ambrosial  living.  Eesponding  ingenu- 
ously to  the  glow  of  their  home-made  wines,  they  begged 
Rezanov  to  accept  the  Mission,  burn  it,  plunder  it,  above 
all,  to  plan  his  own  day. 

"I  hope  that  I  am  to  see  every  detail  of  your  great 
work/'  replied  the  diplomatic  guest  of  honor.  "But 
at  your  own  leisure.  Meanwhile,  I  beg  that  you  will 
order  one  of  your  Indians  to  bring  in  the  little  presents 
I  venture  to  offer  as  a  token  of  my  respect.  You  may 
have  heard  that  the  presents  of  his  Imperial  Majesty 
were  refused  by  the  Mikado  of  Japan.  I  reserved  many 
of  them  for  possible  use  in  our  own  possessions,  par- 
ticularly a  piece  of  cloth  of  gold.  This  I  had  intended 
for  our  church  at  New  Archangel,  but  finding  the  priests 
there  more  in  need  of  punishment  than  reward,  I  con- 
cluded to  bring  it  here  and  offer  it  as  a  manifest  of 
my  admiration  for  what  the  great  Franciscan  Order 
of  the  Most  Holy  Church  of  Rome  has  accomplished 


44    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

in  the  Calif ornias.     Have  I  been  too  presumptuous  ? " 

The  priests  all  wore  the  eager  expressions  of  children. 

" Could  we  not  see  them  first?"  asked  Father 
Landaeta  of  his  superior;  and  Father  Abella  sent  a 
servant  with  an  order  to  unload  the  horse  and  bring  in 
the  presents. 

Not  a  vestige  of  reserve  lingered.  Priests  and  guests 
sat  about  the  table  eating  and  drinking  and  chatting 
as  were  they  old  friends  reunited,  and  Eezanov  extracted 
much  of  the  information  he  desired.  The  white  pop- 
ulation— "gente  de  razon" — of  Alta  California,  the 
peculiar  province  of  the  Franciscans — the  Jesuits 
having  been  the  first  to  invade  Baja  California,  and 
with  little  success — numbered  about  two  thousand,  the 
Christianized  Indians  twenty  thousand.  There  were 
nineteen  Missions  and  four  Presidial  districts — San 
Diego,  close  to  the  border  of  Baja  California,  Santa 
Barbara,  Monterey,  and  San  Francisco.  Each  Mission 
had  an  immense  grant  of  land,  or  rancho — generally 
fifteen  miles  square — for  the  raising  of  live  stock,  agri- 
cultural necessities,  and  the  grape.  At  the  Presidio  of 
San  Francisco  there  were  some  seventy  men,  including 
invalids ;  and  the  number  varied  little  at  the  other  mili- 
tary centres,  Rezanov  inferred,  although  there  was  a 
natural  effort  to  impress  the  foreigner  with  the  casual 
inferiority  of  the  armed  force  within  his  ken.  Cattle 
and  horses  increased  so  rapidly  that  every  few  years 
there  was  a  wholesale  slaughter,  although  the  agricul- 
tural yield  was  enormous.  What  the  Missions  were 
unable  to  manufacture  was  sent  them  from  Mexico,  and 
disposed  of  the  small  salaries  of  the  priests ;  the  ' '  Pious 
Fund  of  California"  in  the  City  of  Mexico  being  sys- 
tematically embezzled.  The  first  Presidio  and  Mission 
were  founded  at  San  Diego  in  July  of  1769 ;  the  last  at 
San  Francisco  in  September  and  October  of  1776. 

Rezanov's  polite  interest  in  the  virgin  country  was 
cut  short  by  the  entrance  of  two  Indians  carrying  heavy 
bundles,  which  they  opened  upon  the  floor  without 
further  delay. 


REZANOV  45 

The  cloth  of  gold  was  magnificent,  and  the  padres 
handled  it  as  rapturously  as  had  their  souls  and  fingers 
been  of  the  sex  symbolized  while  exalted  by  the  essence 
of  maternity  in  whose  service  it  would  be  anointed. 
Kezanov  looked  on  with  an  amused  sigh,  yet  conscious 
of  being  more  comprehending  and  sympathetic  than 
if  he  had  journeyed  straight  from  Europe  to  California. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  felt  a  passing  gratitude 
for  his  uncomfortable  but  illuminating  sojourn  so  close 
to  the  springs  of  nature. 

The  priests  were  as  well  pleased  with  the  pieces  of 
fine  English  cloth;  and  as  their  own  homespun  robes 
rasped  like  hair  shirts,  they  silently  but  uniformly  con- 
gratulated themselves  that  the  color  was  brown. 

Father  Abella  turned  to  Rezanov,  his  saturnine  fea- 
tures relaxed. 

"We  are  deeply  grateful  to  your  excellency,  and  our 
prayers  shall  follow  you  always.  Never  have  we  re- 
ceived presents  so  timely  and  so  magnificent.  And  be 
sure  we  shall  not  forget  the  brave  officers  that  have 
brought  you  safely  to  our  distant  shores,  nor  the  dis- 
tinguished scholar  who  guards  your  excellency's  health." 
He  turned  to  Langsdorff  and  repeated  himself  in  Latin. 
The  naturalist,  whose  sharp  nose  was  always  lifted 
as  if  in  protest  against  oversight  and  ready  to  pounce 
upon  and  penetrate  the  least  of  mysteries,  bowed  with 
his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  translated  for  the  benefit  of 
the  officers. 

"Humph!"  said  David ov  in  Russian.  "Much,  the 
Chamberlain  will  care  for  the  prayers  of  the  Catholic 
Church  if  he  has  to  go  home  with  his  cargo.  But  he  has 
a  fine  opportunity  here  for  the  display  of  his  diplomatic 
talents.  I  fancy  they  will  avail  him  more  than  they  did 
at  Nagasaki — where  I  am  told  he  swore  more  than  once 
when  he  should  have  kowtowed  and  grinned." 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  see  him  grin,"  replied  Khostov, 
as  they  finally  started  for  the  outbuildings.  "If  he 
could  go  as  far  as  that  he  would  be  the  most  terrible 
man  living.  Were  it  not  for  the  fire  in  him  that  melts 


46    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  iron  just  so  often  he  would  be  crafty  and  cruel 
instead  of  subtle  and  firm.  He  is  a  fortunate  man! 
There  were  many  fairies  at  his  cradle!  I  have  always 
envied  him,  and  now  he  is  going  to  win  that  beautiful 
Dona  Concha.  She  will  look  at  none  of  us.-' 

"We  will  doubtless  meet  others  as  beautiful  at  the 
ball  to-night, "  said  David ov  philosophically.  "You  are 
not  in  love  with  a  girl  who  has  barely  spoken  to  you, 
I  suppose." 

' l  She  had  almost  given  me  a  rose  this  morning,  when 
Rezanov,  who  was  flattering  the  good  Dona  Ignacia  with 
a  moment  of  his  attention,  turned  too  soon.  I  might 
have  been  air.  She  looked  straight  through  me.  Such 
eyes!  Such  teeth!  Such  a  form!  She  is  the  most 
enchanting  girl  I  have  ever  seen.  And  he  will  monopo- 
lize her  without  troubling  to  notice  whether  we  even 
admire  her  or  not.  Pray  heaven  he  does  not  break 
her  heart." 

"He  is  honorable.  One  must  admit  that,  if  he  does 
fancy  his  own  will  was  a  personal  gift  from  the  Al- 
mighty. Perhaps  she  will  break  his.  I  never  saw  a 
more  accomplished  flirt." 

"I  know  wom$n,"  replied  the  shrewder  Khostov. 

"When  men  like  Rezanov  make  an  effort  to  please " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Some  men  are  the  off- 
spring of  Mars  and  Venus  and  most  of  us  are  not.  We 
can  at  least  be  philosophers.  Let  us  hope  the  dinner 
will  be  excellent." 


VII 

IT  proved  to  be  the  most  delicate  and  savory  repast 
that  had  excited  their  appetites  this  side  of  Europe.  The 
friars  had  their  consolations,  and  even  Dona  Ignacia 
Argiiello  was  less  gastronomic  than  Father  Landaeta. 
Rezanov,  whose  epieurianism  had  survived  a  year  of 
dried  fish  and  the  coarse  luxuries  of  his  managers,  sud- 
denly saw  all  life  in  the  light  of  the  humorist,  and  told 
so  many  amusing  versions  of  his  adventures  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  even  of  his  misadventure  with  Japan,  that 
the  priests  choked  over  their  wine,  and  Langsdorff,  who 
had  not  a  grain  of  humor,  swelled  with  pride  in  his 
chance  relationship  to  a  man  who  seemed  able  to  manip- 
ulate every  string  in  the  human  network. 

"He  will  succeed,"  he  said  to  Davidov.  "He  will 
succeed.  I  almost  hoped  he  would  not,  he  is  so  indif- 
ferent— I  might  almost  say  so  hostile — to  my  own  scien- 
tific adventures.  But  when  he  is  in  this  mood,  when 
those  cold  eyes  brim  with  laughter  and  ordinary  human- 
ity, I  am  nothing  better  than  his  slave." 

Kezanov,  in  reply  to  an  entreaty  from  Father  Uriai 
to  tell  them  more  of  his  mission  and  of  the  strange 
picture-book  country  they  had  never  hoped  to  hear 
of  at  first  hand,  assumed  a  tone  of  great  frankness  and 
intimacy.  "We  were,  with  astounding  cleverness, 
treated  from  the  first  like  an  audience  in  a  new  theatre. 
After  we  had  solemnly  been  towed  by  a  string  of  boats 
to  anchor,  under  the  Papen  mountains,  all  Nagasaki 
appeared  to  turn  out,  men,  women,  and  children.  Thou- 
sands of  little  boats,  decorated  with  flags  by  day  and 
colored  lanterns  by  night,  and  filled  with  people  in  gala 
attire,  swarmed  about  us,  gazed  at  us  through  telescopes, 
were  so  thick  on  the  bay  one  could  have  traversed  it  on 

47 


48    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

foot.  The  imperial  sailors  were  distinguished  by  their 
uniforms  of  a  large  blue  and  white  check,  suggesting 
the  pinafores  of  a  brobdingnagian  baby.  The  barges 
of  the  imperial  princes  were  covered  with  blue  and 
white  awnings  and  towed  to  the  sound  of  kettledrums 
and  the  loud  measured  cries  of  the  boatmen.  At  night 
the  thousands  of  illuminated  lanterns,  of  every  color 
and  shade,  the  waving  of  fans,  the  incessant  chattering, 
and  the  more  harmonious  noise  that  rose  unceasingly 
above,  made  up  a  scene  as  brilliant  as  it  was  juvenile 
and  absurd.  In  the  daytime  it  was  more  interesting, 
with  the  background  of  hills  cultivated  to  their  crests 
in  the  form  of  terraces,  varied  with  rice  fields,  hamlets, 
groves,  and  paper  villas  encircled  with  little  gardens  as 
glowing  and  various  of  color  as  the  night  lanterns. 
When,  at  last,  I  was  graciously  permitted  to  have  a 
residence  on  a  point  of  land  called  Megasaki,  I  was 
conveyed  thither  in  the  pleasure  barge  of  the  Prince  of 
Fisi.  There  was  place  for  sixty  oarsmen,  but  as  one 
of  the  few  tokens  of  respect  I  was  enabled  to  record 
for  the  comfort  of  the  mighty  sovereign  whose  repre- 
sentative I  was,  the  barge  was  towed  by  a  long  line  of 
boats,  decorated  with  flags,  the  voices  of  the  rowers  rising 
and  falling  in  measured  cadence  as  they  announced  to 
all  Japan  the  honor  about  to  be  conferred  upon  her. 
I  sat  on  a  chair  of  state  in  the  central  compartment  of 
the  barge,  and  quite  alone;  my  suite  standing  on  a 
raised  deck  beyond.  Before  me  on  a  table,  marvellously 
inlaid,  were  my  credentials.  I  was  surrounded  by  cur- 
tains of  sky-blue  silk  and  panels  of  polished  lacquer 
inwrought  with  the  imperial  arms  in  gold.  The  awning 
of  blue  and  white  silk  was  lined  with  a  delicate  and 
beautiful  tapestry,  and  the  reverse  sides  of  the  silken 
partitions  were  of  canvas  painted  by  the  masters  of  the 
country.  The  polished  floor  was  covered  by  a  mag- 
nificent carpet  woven  with  alarming  dragons  whose 
jaws  pointed  directly  at  my  chair  of  state.  And  such 
an  escort  and  such  a  reception,  both  of  ceremony  and 
of  curiosity,  no  Russian  had  ever  boasted  before.  Flags 


REZANOV  49 

waved,  kettledrums  beat,  fans  were  flung  into  my  very 
lap  to  autograph.  The  bay,  the  hills,  were  a  blaze  of 
color  and  a  confusion  of  sound.  The  barracks  were 
hung  with  tapestries  and  gay  silks.  I,  with  my  arms 
folded  and  in  full  uniform,  my  features  composed  to 
the  impassivity  of  one  of  their  own  wooden  gods,  was 
the  central  figure  of  this  magnificent  farce ;  and  it  may 
be  placed  to  the  everlasting  credit  of  the  discipline  of 
courts  that  not  one  of  my  staff  smiled.  They  stood  with 
their  arms  folded  and  their  eyes  on  the  inlaid  devices  at 
their  feet. 

"When  this  first  act  was  over  and  I  was  locked  in 
for  the  night  and  felt  myself  able  to  kick  my  way 
through  the  flimsy  walls,  yet  as  completely  a  prisoner 
as  if  they  had  been  of  stone,  I  will  confess  that  I  fell 
into  a  most  undiplomatical  rage;  and  when  I  found 
myself  played  with  from  month  to  month  by  a  people 
I  scorned  as  a  grotesque  mixture  of  barbarian  and 
mannikin,  I  was  alternately  infuriated,  and  consumed 
with  laughter  at  the  vanity  of  men  and  nations." 

His  voice  dropped  from  its  light  ironical  note,  and 
became  harsh  and  abrupt  with  reminiscent  disgust. 
' '  And  the  end  of  it  all  was  failure.  The  superb  presents 
of  the  Tsar  were  rejected.  These  presents:  coats  of 
black  fox  and  ermine,  vases  of  fossil  ivory  and  of  marble, 
muskets,  pistols,  sabers,  magnificent  lustres,  table 
services  of  crystal  and  porcelain,  tapestries  and  car- 
pets, immense  mirrors,  a  clock  in  the  form  of  an  ele- 
phant, and  set  with  precious  stones,  a  portrait  of  the 
Tsar  by  Madame  le  Brun,  damasks,  furs,  velvets,  printed 
cotton,  cloths,  brocades  of  gold  and  silver,  microscopes, 
gold  and  silver  watches,  a  complete  electrical  machine — 
presents  in  all,  of  the  value  of  three  hundred  thousand 
roubles,  were  returned  with  scant  ceremony  to  the 
Nadeshda  and  I  was  politely  told  to  leave. 

4 'But  the  mortification  was  the  least  of  my  worries. 
The  object  of  the  embassy  was  to  establish  not  only 
good  will  and  friendship  between  Russia  and  Japan,  for 
which  we  cared  little,  but  commercial  intercourse  be- 


50    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

tween  this  fertile  country  and  our  northeastern  and 
barren  possessions.  It  would  have  been  greatly  to  the 
advantage  of  the  Japanese,  and  God  knows  it  would 
have  meant  much  to  us." 

Then  Rezanov,  having  tickled  the  imaginations  and 
delighted  the  curiosity  of  the  priests,  began  to  play  upon 
their  heartstrings.  His  own  voice  vibrated  as  he  related 
the  sufferings  of  the  servants  of  the  Company,  and  while 
avoiding  the  nomenclature  and  details  of  their  bodily 
afflictions,  gave  so  thrilling  a  hint  of  their  terrible  con- 
dition that  his  audience  gasped  with  sympathy  while 
experiencing  no  qualms  in  their  own  more  fortunate 
stomachs. 

He  led  their  disarmed  understandings  as  far  down 
the  vale  of  tears  as  he  deemed  wise,  then  permitted 
himself  a  magnificent  burst  of  spontaneity. 

"I  must  tell  you  the  object  of  my  mission  to  Cali- 
fornia, my  kind  friends!"  he  cried,  "although  I  beg 
you  will  not  betray  me  to  the  other  powers  until  I  think 
it  wise  to  speak  myself.  But  I  must  have  your  sympathy 
and  advice.  It  has  long  been  my  desire  to  establish 
relations  between  Russia  and  Spain  that  should  be  of 
mutual  benefit  to  the  colonies  of  both  in  this  part  of 
the  western  hemisphere.  I  have  told  you  of  the  hor- 
rible condition  and  needs  of  my  men.  They  must  have 
a  share  in  the  superfluities  of  this  most  prodigal  land. 
But  I  make  no  appeal  to  your  mercy.  Trade  is  not 
founded  on  charity.  You  well  know  we  have  much  you 
are  in  daily  need  of.  There  should  be  a  bi-yearly 
interchange."  He  paused  and  looked  from  one  staring 
face  to  the  other.  He  had  been  wise  in  his  appeal. 
They  were  deeply  gratified  at  being  taken  into  his  con- 
fidence and  virtually  asked  to  outwit  the  military 
authorities  they  detested. 

Rezanov  continued. 

"I  have  brought  the  Juno  heavy  laden,  my  fathers, 
and  for  the  deliberate  purpose  of  barter.  She  is  full 
of  Russian  and  Boston  goods.  I  shall  do  my  utmost 
to  persuade  your  Governor  to  give  me  of  his  corn  and 


REZANOV  51 

other  farinaceous  foods  in  exchange.  It  may  be  against 
your  laws,  and  I  am  well  aware  that  for  the  treaty  I 
must  wait,  but  I  beg  you  in  the  name  of  humanity  to 
point  out  to  his  excellency  a  way  in  which  he  can  at 
the  same  time  relieve  our  necessities  and  placate  his 
conscience. ' ' 

' '  We  will !  We  will ! ' '  cried  Father  Abella.  ' '  Would 
that  you  had  come  in  the  disguise  of  a  common  sea- 
captain,  for  we  have  hoodwinked  the  commandantes 
more  than  once.  But  aside  from  the  suspicion  and 
distrust  in  which  Spain  holds  Russia, — with  so  dis- 
tinguished a  visitor  as  your  excellency,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  traffic  undetected.  But  there  must  be  a 
way  out.  There  shall  be!  And  will  your  excellency 
kindly  let  us  see  the  cargo?  I  am  sure  there  is  much 
we  sadly  need:  cloth,  linen,  cotton,  boots,  shoes,  casks, 
bottles,  glasses,  plates,  shears,  axes,  implements  of  hus- 
bandry, saws,  sheep-shears,  iron  wares — have  you  any 
of  these  things,  Excellency?" 

''All  and  more.     Will  you  come  to-morrow ?" 

' '  We  will !  and  one  way  or  another  they  shall  be  ours 
and  you  shall  have  breadstuffs  for  your  pitiable  sub- 
jects. We  have  as  much  need  of  Europe  as  you  can 
have  of  California,  for  Mexico  is  dilatory  and  often 
disregards  our  orders  altogether.  One  way  or  another — 
we  have  your  promise,  Excellency?" 

"I  shall  not  leave  California  without  accomplishing 
what  I  came  for,"  said  Eezanov. 


VIII 

CONCHA  boxed  Rosa's  ears  twice  while  being  dressed  for 
the  ball  that  evening.  It  was  true  that  excitement  had 
reigned  throughout  the  Presidio  all  day,  for  never  had  a 
ball  been  so  hastily  planned.  Don  Luis  had  demurred 
when  Concha  proposed  it  at  breakfast ;  officially  to  enter- 
tain strangers  not  yet  officially  received  exceeded  his 
authority.  Concha,  waxing  stubborn  with  opposition, 
vowed  that  she  would  give  the  ball  herself  if  he  did  not. 
Business  immediately  afterward  took  the  Commandante 
ad.  in.  down  to  the  Battery  at  Yerba  Buena.  Before 
he  left  he  gave  orders  that  the  large  hall  in  the  barracks, 
where  balls  usually  were  held,  should  be  locked  and  the 
key  given  up  to  no  one  but  himself.  He  returned  in 
the  afternoon  to  find  that  Concha  had  outwitted  him. 
The  sala  of  the  Commandante 's  house  was  very  large. 
The  furniture  had  been  removed  and  the  walls  hung 
with  flags,  those  of  Spain  on  three  sides,  the  Russian, 
borrowed  by  Santiago  from  the  ship,  at  the  head  of  the 
room.  Concha  laughed  gaily  as  Luis  stormed  about 
the  sala  rasping  his  spurs  on  the  bare  floor. 

' '  Whitewashed  walls  for  guests  from  St.  Petersburg ! ' ' 
she  jeered,  as  Luis  menaced  the  flags.  "We  have  little 
enough  to  offer.  Besides — what  more  wise  than  to 
flaunt  our  flag  in  the  face  of  the  Russian  bear?  Their 
flag,  of  course,  is  a  mere  idle  compliment.  Let  me  tell 
you  two  things,  Luis  mio:  this  morning  I  invited  the 
Russians  to  dance  to-night,  and  told  Padre  Abella  to 
ask  all  our  neighbors  of  the  Mission  besides ;  and  Ra- 
faella  Sal  helped  me  to  drape  every  one  of  those  flags. 
When  I  told  her  you  might  tear  them  down,  she  vowed 
that  if  you  did  she  would  dance  all  night  with  the 
Bostonian. ' ' 

52 


REZANOV  53 

Luis  lifted  his  shoulders  and  mustache  to  express  an 
attitude  of  contemptuous  resignation,  but  his  face  dark- 
ened, and  a  moment  later  he  left  the  room  and  strolled 
up  the  square  to  the  grating  of  Rafaella  Sal. 

Concha  well  knew  that  the  frank  gray  eyes  of  the 
Bostonian — all  citizens  of  the  United  States  were  Bos- 
tonians  in  that  part  of  the  world,  for  only  Boston 
skippers  had  the  enterprise  to  venture  so  far — were  for 
no  one  but  herself.  But  his  face  was  bony  and  freckled, 
and  his  figure  less  in  height  and  vigor  than  her  own. 
He  was  rich  and  well-born,  but  shy  and  very  modest. 
Concha  Argiiello,  La  Favorita  of  California,  was  for 
some  such  dashing  caballero  as  Don  Antonio  Castro  of 
Monterey,  or  Ignacio  Sal,  the  most  adventurous  rider 
of  the  north.  Meanwhile  he  could  look  at  her  and 
adore  her  in  secret,  and  Dona  Rafaella  Sal  was  very 
kind  and  danced  as  well  as  himself.  He  never  dreamed 
that  he  was  being  used  as  a  stalking  horse  to  keep 
alive  in'  the  best  match  in  the  Calif ornias  the  jealous 
desire  for  exclusive  possession  that  had  animated  him 
in  1800  when  he  had  applied  through  the  Viceroy  of 
Mexico  for  royal  consent  to  his  marriage  with  the  Fa-. 
vorita  of  her  year.  That  was  six  years  ago  and  never 
a  word  had  come  from  Madrid.  Luis  was  faithful, 
but  men  were  men,  and  girls  grew  older  every  day. 
So  the  wise  Rafaella  was  alternately  indifferent  and 
alluring,  the  object  of  more  admiration  than  a  maid 
could  always  repel,  yet  with  wells  of  sentiment  that 
only  one  man  could  discover.  And  the  American  was 
patient,  and  even  had  he  known,  would  not  in  the  least 
have  minded  the  use  she  made  of  him.  He  still  could 
look  at  Concha  Argiiello. 

William  Sturgis  had  sailed  in  one  of  his  father's 
ships,  now  six  years  ago,  from  Boston  in  search  of 
health.  The  ship  in  a  dense  fog  had  gone  on  the  rocks 
in  the  straits  between  the  Farallones  and  the  Bay  of 
San  Francisco.  He  alone,  and  after  long  hours  of 
struggle  with  the  wicked  currents,  not  even  knowing  in 
what  direction  land  might  be,  was  flung,  senseless,  on 


54    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  shore  below  the  Fort.  For  the  next  month  he  was 
an  invalid  in  the  house  of  the  Commandante.  Fortu- 
nately, his  papers  and  money  were  sewn  in  an  oilskin 
belt  and  his  father's  name  was  well  known  in  Cali- 
fornia. Moreover,  there  never  was  a  more  likable  youth. 
His  illness  interested  all  the  matrons  and  maids  of  the 
Presidio  in  his  fate ;  when  he  recovered,  his  good  dancing 
and  unselfishness  gave  him  permanent  place  in  the 
regard  of  the  women,  while  his  entire  absence  of  beauty, 
and  his  ability  to  hold  his  own  in  the  mess  room,  estab- 
lished his  position  with  the  men. 

In  due  course  word  of  his  plight  reached  Boston, 
and  a  ship  was  immediately  despatched,  not  only  to 
bring  the  castaway  home,  but  with  the  fine  wardrobe 
necessary  to  a  young  gentleman  of  his  station.  But  the 
same  ship  brought  word  of  his  father's  death — his 
mother  had  gone  long  since — and  as  there  were  brothers 
enamored  of  the  business  he  hated,  he  decided  to  remain 
in  the  country  that  had  won  his  heart  and  given  him 
health.  For  some  time  there  was  demur  on  the  part  of 
the  authorities;  Spain  welcomed  no  foreigners  in  her 
colonies.  But  Sturgis  swore  a  mighty  oath  that  he 
would  never  despatch  a  letter  uninspected  by  the  Com- 
mandante, that  he  would  make  no  excursions  into  the 
heart  of  the  country,  that  he  would  neither  engage  in 
traffic  nor  interfere  in  politics.  Then  having  already 
won  the  affections  of  the  Governor,  he  was  permitted  to 
remain,  even  to  rent  an  acre  of  land  from  the  Church 
in  the  sheltered  Mission  valley,  and  build  himself  a 
house.  Here  he  raised  fruit  and  vegetables  for  his  own 
hospitable  table,  chickens  and  game  cocks.  Books  and 
other  luxuries  came  by  every  ship  from  Boston;  until 
for  a  long  interval  ships  came  no  more.  One  of  these 
days,  when  the  power  of  the  priests  had  abated,  and  the 
jealousy  which  would  keep  all  Californians  landless  but 
themselves  was  counterbalanced  by  a  great  increase  in 
population,  he  meant  to  have  a  ranch  down  in  the  south 
where  the  sun  shone  all  the  year  round  and  he  could 
ride  half  the  day  with  his  vaqueros  after  the  finest 


REZANOV  55 

cattle  in  the  country.  He  never  should  marry  because 
he  could  not  marry  Concha  Argiiello,  but  he  could 
think  of  her,  see  her  sometimes ;  and  in  a  land  where  a 
man  was  neither  frozen  in  winter  nor  grilled  in  summer, 
where  life  could  be  led  in  the  open,  and  the  tendency 
was  to  idle  and  dream,  domestic  happiness  called  on  a 
feebler  note  than  in  less  equable  climes.  In  his  heart 
he  was  desperately  jealous  of  Concha's  favored  cavaliers, 
but  it  was  a  jealousy  without  hatred,  and  his  kind 
earnest  often  humorous  eyes  were  always  assuring  his 
lady  of  an  imperishable  desire  to  serve  her  without  re- 
ward. Of  course  Concha  treated  him  with  as  little  con- 
sideration as  so  humble  a  swain  deserved;  but  in  her 
heart  she  liked  him  better  than  either  Castro  or  Sal, 
for  he  talked  to  her  of  something  besides  rodeos  and 
balls,  racing  and  cock-fights;  he  had  taught  her  Eng- 
lish and  lent  her  many  books.  Moreover,  he  neither 
sighed  nor  languished,  nor  ever  had  sung  at  her  grating. 
But  she  regarded  him  merely  as  an  intelligence,  a  well 
of  refreshment  in  her  stagnant  life,  never  as  a  man. 

"Rosa,"  she  said  as  she  caught  her  hair  into  a  high 
golden  comb  that  had  been  worn  in  Spain  by  many  a 
beauty  of  the  house  of  Moraga,  and  spiked  the  knot  with 
two  long  pins  globed  at  the  end  with  gold,  while  the 
maid  fastened  her  slippers  and  smoothed  the  pink  silk 
stockings  over  the  arched  thin  instep  above;  "what  is 
a  lover  like?  Is  it  like  meeting  one  of  the  saints  of 
heaven  ? ' ' 

"No,  seriorita." 

"Like  what,  then?" 

"Like — like  nothing  but  himself,  senorita.  You 
would  not  have  him  otherwise." 

1 '  Oh,  stupid  one !  Hast  thou  no  imagination  ?  Fancy 
any  man  being  well  enough  as  he  is!  For  instance, 
there  is  Don  Antonio,  who  is  so  handsome  and  fiery, 
and  Don  Ignacio,  who  can  sing  and  dance  and  ride  as 
no  one  else  in  all  the  Californias,  and  Don  "Weeliam 
Sturgis,  who  is  very  clever  and  true.  If  I  could  roll 
them  into  one — a  tamale  of  corn  and  chicken  and  pep- 


56    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

pers — there  would  be  a  man  almost  to  my  liking.  But 
even  then — not  quite.  And  one  man — what  nonsense ! 
I  have  too  much  color  to-night,  Rosa. " 

"No,  senorita,  you  have  never  been  so  beautiful. 
When  the  lover  comes  and  you  love  him,  sefiorita,  you 
will  think  him  greater  than  our  natural  king  and  lord, 
and  all  other  men  poor  Indians." 

"But  how  shall  I  know?" 

"Your  heart  will  tell  you,  sefiorita." 

"My  heart?  My  father  and  my  mother  will  choose 
for  me  a  husband  whom  I  shall  love  as  all  other  women 
love  their  husbands — just  enough  and  no  more.  Then — 
I  suppose — I  shall  never  know?" 

"Would  you  marry  at  your  parents'  bidding,  like  a 
child,  senorita?  I  do  not  think  you  would." 

Concha  looked  at  the  girl  in  astonishment,  but  with  a 
greater  astonishment  she  suddenly  realized  that  she 
would  not.  Even  her  little  fingers  stiffened  in  a  rush 
of  personality,  of  passionate  resentment  against  the 
shackles  bound  by  the  ages  about  the  feminine  ego.  Her 
individuality,  long  budding,  burst  into  flower ;  her  eyes 
gazed  far  beyond  her  radiant  image  in  the  mirror  with 
a  look  of  terrified  but  dauntless  insight;  then  moved 
slowly  to  the  girl  that  sat  weeping  on  the  floor. 

"I  know  not  what  thy  sin  was,"  she  said  musingly. 
"But  I  have  heard  it  said  thou  didst  obey  no  law  but 
thine  own  will — and  his.  Why  should  the  punishment 
have  been  so  terrible?  Thou  hast  sworn  to  me  thou 
didst  not  help  to  murder  the  woman." 

"I  cannot  tell  you,  senorita.  You  will  never  know 
anything  of  sin ;  but  of  love — yes,  I  think  you  will  know 
that,  and  before  very  long." 

1 1  Before  long  ? ' '  Concha  ?s  lips  parted  and  the  nervous 
color  she  had  deprecated  left  her  cheeks.  "What 
meanest  thou,  Rosa?"  Her  voice  rose  hoarsely. 

And  the  Indian,  with  the  insight  of  her  own  tragedy, 
replied :  "The  Russian  has  come  for  you,  sefiorita.  You 
will  go  with  him,  far  away  to  the  north  and  the  snow. 
These  others  never  could  win  your  heart;  but  this  man 


REZANOV  57 

who  looks  like  a  king,  and  as  if  many  women  had  loved 

him,  and  he  had  cared  little Oh,  senorita,  Carlos 

was  only  a  poor  Indian,  but  the  men  that  women  love 
all  have  something  that  makes  them  brothers — the  great 
Russian  and  the  poor  man  who  goes  mad  for  a  moment 
and  kills  one  woman  that  he  may  live  with  another 
forever.  The  great  Russian  is  free,  but  he  is  the  same, 
senorita — he  too  could  kill  for  love,  and  such  are  the 
men  we  women  die  for ! ' ' 

Concha,  ambitious  and  romantic,  eager  for  the  bril- 
liant life  the  advent  of  this  Russian  nobleman  seemed 
to  herald,  had  assured  Santiago  that  he  would  love  her ; 
but  they  had  been  the  empty  words  of  the  Favorita  of 
many  conquests ;  of  love  and  passion  she  had  known,  sus- 
pected, nothing.  As  she  watched  Rosa,  huddled  and 
convulsed,  little  pointed  arrows  flew  into  her  brain. 
Girls  in  those  old  Spanish  days  went  to  the  altar  with 
a  serene  faith  in  miracles,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  honor 
among  those  that  preceded  their  friends  to  abet  the 
parents  in  a  custom  which  assuredly  did  not  err  on  the 
side  of  ugliness.  Concha  had  a  larger  vocabulary  than 
other  Calif ornians  of  her  sex,  for  she  had  read  many 
books,  and  if  never  a  novel,  she  knew  something  of 
poetry.  Sturgis  had  filled  the  sala  with  the  sonorous 
roll  of  his  favorite  masters  and  it  had  pleased  her  ear; 
but  the  language  of  passion  had  been  so  many  beau- 
tiful words,  neither  vibrating  nor  lingering  in  her 
consciousness.  But  the  rude  expression  of  the  miserable 
woman  at  her  feet,  whose  sobs  grew  more  uncontrolla- 
ble every  moment,  made  it  forever  impossible  that  she 
should  prattle  again  as  she  had  to  Santiago  and  Rezanov 
in  the  last  day  and  night;  and  although  she  felt  as  if 
straining  her  eyes  in  the  dark,  her  cheeks  burned  once 
more,  and  she  rose  uneasily  and  walked  to  the  window. 

She  returned  in  a  moment  and  stood  over  Rosa,  but 
her  voice  when  she  spoke  had  lost  its  hoarseness  and 
was  cold  and  irritated. 

" Control  thyself,"  she  said.  "And  go  and  bathe 
thine  eyes.  Wouldst  look  like  a  tomato  when  it  is  time 


58    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

to  pass  the  dulces  and  wines?  And  think  no  more  of 
thy  lover  until  he  can  come  out  of  prison  and  marry 
thee."  She  drew  herself  away  as  the  woman  attempted 
to  clutch  her  skirts.  "Go,"  she  said.  "The  musicians 
are  tuning." 


IX 

"THE  sash,  Excellency?"  Jon  longed  to  see  his  master 
in  full  regalia  once  more,  and  after  all,  was  not  this 
an  embassy  of  a  sort?  But  Rezanov,  who  already  re- 
garded his  reflection  with  some  humor,  shook  his  head. 

"I'll  go  as  far  as  decency  permits,  for  no  one  is  so 
impressed  by  external  magnificence  as  the  Spaniard. 
But  full  dress  uniform  and  orders  are  enough ;  an  ambas- 
sador's  sash  and  they  might  suspect  I  took  them  for  the 
children  they  are.  Children  are  not  always  fools.  My 
stock  is  too  tight.  Remember  that  I  am  to  dance,  and 
am  too  tall  for  most  women's  pretty  little  ears.  And 
I  doubt  if  an  ear  is  less  thirsty  for  being  so  provoca- 
tively screened. " 

Jon,  a  "prince"  whose  family  had  fallen  upon  evil 
days  long  since,  but  whose  thin  clever  fingers  were  no 
mean  inheritance,  unwound  and  readjusted  the  folds  of 
soft  batiste,  that  most  becoming  neck  vesture  man  has 
ever  worn.  He  fain  would  have  pressed  the  matter  of 
the  sash,  but  Rezanov,  most  indulgent  of  masters  to 
this  devoted  servant,  was  never  patient  of  insistence. 
Jon  also  regretted  the  powdered  wig  and  queue,  which 
he  privately  thought  more  befitting  a  fine  gentleman 
than  his  own  hair,  even  though  the  latter  were  thick 
and  bright.  He  said  tentatively: 

"I  notice  these  Calif ornians  still  wear  the  hair  long; 
and  with  their  gay  ribbons  and  showy  hats  look  much 
better  no  doubt  than  if  they  followed  a  fashion  of 
which  it  would  seem  they  had  not  heard — and  perhaps 
do  not  admire.  •  I  ventured  to  pack  two  of  your  excel- 
lency's wigs  when  we  were  leaving  St.  Petersburg " 

"Good  heavens,  no!"  cried  Rezanov,  rising  to  his 
feet  and  casting  a  last  impatient  glance  at  the  mirror. 

59 


60    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"When  a  man  has  escaped  from  a  furnace  does  he  run 
back  of  his  own  accord?  My  brain  would  cook  under 
a  wig  in  this  climate,  and  I  need  all  my  wits — for  more 
reasons  than  one."  And  he  went  up  on  deck. 

There,  while  awaiting  his  horses  and  escort  he  had 
another  glimpse  of  the  happy  Arcadian  life  of  the  Cali- 
fornians.  Over  the  sand  hills  through  which  he  had 
floundered  twice  that  day  rode  young  men  in  gala  attire, 
a  maiden,  her  attire  as  brilliant  as  the  sunset  along 
the  western  summits,  on  the  saddle  before  them.  These 
saddles  were  heavy  with  silver,  the  blanket  beneath  was 
embroidered  with  both  silver  and  gold.  Gay  light 
laughter  floated  out  on  the  cool  evening  breeze  to  the 
little  ship  in  the  harbor. 

"It  has  been  a  good  day,"  thought  Rezanov,  lowering 
his  glass.  "It  is  like  her  to  arrange  so  charming  a 
finale." 

When  he  arrived  at  the  Presidio  the  guitars  were 
tinkling  and  the  sala  was  full  of  eager  and  somber 
faces.  The  Californians  had  come  early,  determined  to 
witness  the  arrival  of  the  Russians.  Very  pretty  most 
of  the  girls  were,  and  by  no  means  a  bevy  of  brunettes. 
There  was  hair  of  every  shade  of  brown,  looped  over  the 
ears,  drawn  high  and  confined  by  the  high  comb  and 
the  long  pins ;  and  Raf aella  Sal,  with  her  red  hair  and 
gray  eyes,  was  still  celebrated  as  a  beauty,  although 
no  longer  in  her  first  youth — she  was  twenty-two,  and 
should  have  been  a  matron  and  mother  long  since !  But 
she  looked  very  handsome  and  coquettish  in  her  daring 
yellow  frock  that  no  other  red  head  would  have  dared 
to  wear,  and  she  displayed  three  ropes  of  Baja  Cali- 
fornia pearls,  one  strand  being  the  common  possession. 
The  matrons,  young  and  old,  wore  heavy  satins  or  bro- 
cades, either  red  or  yellow,  but  the  maids  were  in  flow- 
ered silks,  sometimes  with  coquettish  little  jacket,  gen- 
erally with  long  pointed  bodice  and  full  flowing  skirt. 
Concha's  frock  was  made  in  this  fashion,  but  quite 
different  otherwise ;  an  aunt  in  the  City  of  Mexico  being 
mindful  at  whiles  of  the  cravings  of  relatives  in  exile. 


REZANOV  61 

It  was  of  a  soft  shimmering  white  stuff  covered  with 
gold  spangles  and  cut  to  reveal  her  young  neck  and 
arms.  She  stood  at  the  head  of  the  room  with  her  mother 
as  Rezanov  entered,  and  he  noticed  for  the  first  time 
how  tall  she  was.  She  held  herself  proudly ;  mischievous 
twinkle,  nor  child-like  trust,  nor  flashing  coquetry  pos- 
sessed her  eyes;  these,  even  more  star-like  than  usual, 
nevertheless  looked  out  upon  her  guests  with  a  dignified 
composure.  Her  lips,  her  skin,  were  luminous.  In  this 
well-cut  evening  gown  she  saw  that  her  figure  was  su- 
perb ;  and  that  she  could  command  stateliness  as  well  as 
vivacity  moved  her  toward  a  pedestal  in  his  regard  that 
had  been  occupied  by  few  and  never  for  long. 

Rezanov,  in  his  splendid  uniform  and  blazing  orders, 
filled  the  sala  with  his  presence  as  he  walked  past  the 
rows  of  bright  critical  eyes  toward  his  hostesses.  The 
young  lips  of  the  maids  parted  with  delight  and  the 
men  frowned.  For  the  first  time  William  Sturgis  felt 
the  sickness  of  jealousy  instead  of  its  not  unagreeable 
pain.  Davidov  and  Khostov,  both  handsome  and  well- 
bred  young  men,  were  also  in  full  naval  uniform,  and 
by  no  means  ignored ;  while  Langsdorff,  in  the  severe 
black  of  the  scholar,  was  an  admirable  foil. 

Rezanov,  wondering  at  the  subtle  change  in  Concha, 
bowed  ceremoniously  and  murmured:  "You  will  give 
me  the  first  dance,  sefiorita?" 

"Certainly,  Excellency.  Are  you  not  the  guest  of 
honor?" 

She  motioned  to  the  Indian  musicians,  fiddles  and 
guitars  fairly  leaped  to  position,  and  in  a  moment  Re- 
zanov enjoyed  the  novel  delusion  of  encircling  a  girl's 
floating  wraith. 

"We  can  waltz,  you  see !    Are  you  not  surprised?" 

"It  is  but  one  accomplishment  the  more.  I  feared 
a  preference  for  your  native  dances,  but  ventured  to 
hope  you  would  teach  me." 

"They  are  easy  to  learn.  You  will  watch  us  dance 
the  contra-danza  after  this." 

"With  whom  do  you  dance  it?" 


62    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Her  black  eyelashes  were  very  thick ;  he  barely  caught 
the  glance  she  shot  him. 

"The  Russian  bear  growls,"  she  said  lightly.  ''Did 
you  expect  to  dance  every  dance  with  me?" 

"I  came  for  no  other  purpose." 

"You  would  have  several  duels  to  fight  to-morrow." 

"I  have  no  objection." 

"You  have  fought  others,  then?"  Her  voice  was 
the  softer  with  the  effort  to  turn  its  edge. 

"No  more  than  most  men,  I  suppose.  May  I  ask 
how  many  have  been  fought  for  you?" 

"My  memory  is  no  better  than  yours.  Why  should 
I  burden  it  with  trifles?" 

"True.  It  doubtless  is  charged  with  matters  far 
more  serious  than  the  desires  of  mere  men.  Tell  me, 
senorita,  what  is  your  dearest  wish?"  He  had  bent 
his  head  and  fixed  his  powerful  gaze  on  her  stubborn 
lashes.  As  he  hoped,  she  raised  startled  eyes  in  which 
an  angry  glitter  dawned. 

"My  dearest  wish?  If  I  had  one  should  I  tell  you? 
Why  do  you  ask  me  such  a  question?" 

' '  Because  I  lit  a  candle  at  the  Mission  to-day  that  you 
might  realize  it,"  he  answered  smiling. 

To  his  surprise  he  saw  a  flash  of  terror  in  her  eyes 
before  she  dropped  them,  and  felt  her  shiver.  But  she 
answered  coldly: 

"You  have  wasted  a  candle,  senor.  I  have  never 
had  a  wish  that  was  not  instantly  gratified.  But  I 
thank  you  for  the  kind  thought.  Will  you  finish  this 
waltz  with  my  friend,  and  the  fiancee  of  Luis,  Rafaella 
Sal  ?  She  has  quarrelled  with  Luis,  I  see ;  Don  Weeliam 
is  dancing  with  Carolina  Ximeno,  and  she  cares  to  waltz 
with  no  one  else.  Pardon  me  if  I  say  that  no  one  has 
ever  waltzed  as  well  as  your  excellency,  and  I  must 
not  be  selfish." 

"I  will  release  you  if  you  are  tired,  but  otherwise 
I  shall  do  myself  the  honor  to  waltz  with  your  friend 
later." 

"I  must  look  after  my  other  guests,"  she  said  coldly; 


REZANOV  63 

and  he  was  led  with  what  grace  he  could  summon  to 
the  fair  but  sulky  Eafaella. 

"How  am  I  to  help  flirting  with  that  girl?"  he 
thought  as  he  mechanically  guided  another  light  and 
graceful  partner  through  the  crowded  room.  "If  she 
were  one  girl  I  might  resist.  But  since  eleven  o'clock 
yesterday  morning  she  has  been  three.  And  if  she  was 
twenty  yesterday,  twelve  this  morning,  she  is  twenty- 
eight  to-night,  and  this  might  be  a  court  ball  in  Madrid. 
I  shall  leave  the  day  after  I  bring  the  Governor  to 
terms. " 

He  sat  beside  Dona  Ignacia  during  the  contra-danza 
and  found  the  scene  remarkably  brilliant  and  animated 
considering  the  primitive  conditions.  In  addition  to 
the  bright  flags  on  the  wall  and  the  vivid  colors  of  the 
women,  the  officers  of  the  Presidio  and  forts  wore  full 
dress  uniform,  either  white  coats  with  red  velvet  vest, 
red  pantaloons  and  sash,  or  white  trousers  and  scarlet 
coat  and  waistcoat  faced  with  green.  The  young  men 
from  the  Mission  wore  small  clothes  of  a  black  silk, 
fastened  at  the  knee  with  silver  buckles,  and  white  silk 
stockings ;  two  gentlemen  from  Monterey  wore  the  even- 
ing costume  of  the  capital,  dove-colored  small  clothes, 
with  white  silk  waistcoat  and  stockings,  and  much  fine 
lawn  and  lace.  The  room  was  well  lighted  by  many 
wicks  stuck  in  lumps  of  tallow.  The  Indian  musicians, 
soldiers  recruited  from  a  superior  tribe  in  the  Santa 
Clara  valley,  were  clad  almost  entirely  in  scarlet,  and 
danced  sometimes  as  they  played;  and  Indian  girls,  in 
short  red  skirts  and  snow-white  smocks  open  at  the 
throat,  their  long  hair  decorated  with  flowers  and  rib- 
bons, already  passed  about  wine  and  dulces.  The  win- 
dows were  open.  The  sweet  night  air  blew  in. 

The  contra-danza  was  not  unlike  the  square  dances  of 
England  except  that  it  was  far  more  graceful,  and  the 
men  rivalled  the  women  in  their  supple  glidings  and 
bendings,  doublings  and  swayings.  Concha  danced  with 
Ignacio  Sal,  Rafaella  with  William  Sturgis ;  their  pliant 
grace,  as  facile  as  grain  rippling  before  the  wind,  would 


64    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

have  put  the  best  ballet  in  Europe  to  the  blush. 
Concha 's  skirts  swept  Rezanov's  feet,  her  little  slippers 
twinkled  before  his  admiring  eyes,  and  he  lost  no  sinu- 
ous turn  or  undulation  of  her  beautiful  figure;  but  she 
never  vouchsafed  him  a  glance. 

When  the  dance  finished  his  host  introduced  him 
to  the  prettiest  of  the  girls  and  he  paid  them  as  many 
compliments  as  their  heads  would  stand.  He  even  took 
some  trouble  to  talk  to  them,  if  only  to  fathom  the 
sources  of  their  unlikeness  to  Concha  Argiiello.  He 
concluded  that  the  gulf  that  separated  her  from  these 
charming  vivacious  shallow  young  girls  was  not  dug  by 
education  alone.  Individualities  were  rare  enough  in 
Europe;  out  here,  in  earthly,  but  sparsely  settled  para- 
dises, they  must  be  rarer  still ;  but  that  one  had  wandered 
into  the  lovely  shell  of  Concha  Argiiello  he  no  longer 
doubted.  The  fact  that  it  had  developed  haphazardly, 
with  little  or  no  help  from  her  sentience,  and  was  still 
fluid  and  uncertain,  but  multiplied  her  in  interest  and 
charm.  The  women  to  whom  he  was  accustomed  knew 
themselves,  consequently  were  no  riddle  to  a  man  of  his 
experience,  but  here  he  had  an  odd  sense  of  having 
entered  into  a  compact  in  the  dark  with  a  girl  who 
might  one  day  symbolize  some  high  and  impassioned 
ideal  he  had  cherished  in  the  days  before  ideals  had  been 
cast  aside  with  the  negative  virtues  that  bred  them. 

As  he  coolly  studied  the  good  looks  of  the  young 
caballeros  and  the  plain  intellectual  face  and  slight  little 
figure  of  the  Bostonian,  noted  the  utter  indifference  with 
which  they  were  treated  by  the  Favorita  of  Presidio  and 
Mission,  he  felt  a  sudden  rush  of  arrogance,  a  youthful 
tingling  of  nerves,  the  same  prophetic  sense  of  imminent 
happiness  and  power  that  his  first  contact  with  the 
light  electrical  air  and  the  beauty  of  the  country  had 
induced.  After  all,  he  was  but  forty-two.  Life  on  the 
whole  had  been  very  kind  to  him.  And,  although  he  did 
not  realize  it  as  yet,  his  frame,  blighted  by  the  rigors 
of  the  past  three  years,  was  already  sensible  to  a  re- 
newal of  juice  and  sap.  He  admitted  that  he  was  more 


REZANOV  65 

interested  than  he  had  been  for  many  years,  and  that  if 
he  was  not  in  love,  he  tingled  with  a  very  natural  mas- 
culine desire  for  an  adventure  with  a  pretty  girl. 

But  he  was  by  no  means  a  weak  man,  and  his  mind 
counted  the  cost  even  while  his  imagination  hummed. 
He  had  almost  decided  to  bid  Dona  Ignacia  an  abrupt 
good-night,  pleading  fatigue,  which  his  pallor  indorsed, 
when  the  door  of  the  dining-room  was  thrown  open  to 
the  liveliest  of  fiddling,  and  a  white  hand  with  a  singular 
suggestion  of  tenacity  both  in  appearance  and  clasp  took 
possession  of  his  arm. 

"My  mother  has  gone  to  Gertrudis  Rudisinda,  who  is 
crying,"  said  Concha.  "It  is  my  pleasure  to  lead  your 
excellency  in  to  supper." 

They  sat  side  by  side  at  the  head  of  the  long  table 
almost  covered  by  the  massive  service  of  silver  and 
loaded  with  evidences  of  Dona  Ignacia 's  generosity  and 
skill;  chickens  in  red  rice  and  gravy,  oysters,  tamales, 
dulces,  pastries,  fruits  and  pleasant  drinks.  Luis,  with 
Rafaella  Sal  dimpling  and  sparkling  at  his  side,  and 
now  quite  resigned  to  the  semi-official  nature  of  the  ball, 
rose  and  drank  the  health  of  the  distinguished  guest  in 
long  and  flowery  phrases.  Rezanov  responded  in  briefer 
but  no  less  felicitous  vein,  and  concluded  by  remarking 
that  the  only  rift  in  the  lute  of  his  present  enchanting 
experience  was  the  fear  that  whereas  he  had  nearly  died 
of  starvation  several  times  during  the  past  three  years, 
he  was  now  threatened  with  a  far  more  ignominious  end, 
so  delicious  and  irresistible  were  the  temptations  that 
beset  the  wayfarer  in  this  most  hospitable  land.  Both 
speeches  were  gaily  applauded,  the  conversation  became 
animated  and  general,  and  Concha  dropped  her  voice 
to  the  attentive  ear  beside  her. 

"You  were  very  successful  to-day  at  the  Mission, 
Excellency. ' ' 

"May  I  ask  how  you  know?" 

"I  never  saw  anything  so  serenely — arrogantly,  per- 
haps would  be  a  truer  description — triumphant  as  your 
bearing  when  you  walked  down  our  humble  sala  to- 


66    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

night.  You  looked  like  Caesar  returned  from  Gaul ;  but 
I  suppose  that  all  great  conquests  are  merely  the  sum 
of  many  small  ones." 

"I  do  not  regard  the  friendship  of  so  shrewd  a  man 
as  Father  Abella  a  trifling  conquest.  And  according 
to  yourself,  dear  senorita,  it  is  essential  to  the  success 
of  a  mission  upon  which  many  lives  and  my  own  honor 
depend. ' ' 

"Is  it  really  so  serious?"  she  asked  with  a  faint 
sneer. 

He  drew  himself  up  stiffly  and  his  light  eyes  glowed 
with  anger.  "It  is  a  subject  I  never  should  have 
thought  of  introducing  at  a  festivity  like  this,"  he  said 
suavely.  "May  I  be  permitted  to  compliment  you, 
senorita,  upon  your  marvellous  grace  in  the  contra- 
danza?  It  quite  turned  my  head,  and  I  am  delighted 
to  hear  that  you  will  dance  alone  after  supper. ' ' 

Her  face  had  flushed  hotly.  She  dropped  her  eyes 
and  her  voice  trembled  as  she  replied :  ' '  You  humiliate 
me,  senor,  and  I  deserve  it.  I — my  poor  Rosa  told  me 
something  of  her  great  tragedy  while  dressing  me,  and 
for  the  moment  other  things  seemed  unimportant.  What 
is  hunger  and  court  favor  beside  a  broken  heart  and  a 
desolate  life?  But  that  of  course  is  the  attitude  of  an 
ignorant  girl."  She  raised  her  eyes.  They  were  soft, 
and  her  voice  was  softer.  "I  beg  that  you  will  forgive 
me,  senor.  And  be  sure  that  I  take  an  even  deeper  inter- 
est in  your  great  mission  than  yesterday.  I  have  thought 
much  about  it,  and  while  I  have  told  my  mother  noth- 
ing, I  have  expressed  certain  peevish  hopes  that  a  ship 
would  not  come  all  the  way  from  Sitka  without  taking 
a  hint  more  than  one  Boston  skipper  must  have  given, 
and  brought  us  many  of  the  things  we  need.  She  is 
quite  excited  over  the  prospect  of  a  new  shawl  for  her- 
self, and  of  sending  several  as  presents  to  the  south; 
besides  many  other  things:  cotton,  shoes,  kitchen  uten- 
sils. Have  you  any  of  these  things,  Excellency?" 

Rezanov  stared  at  her  face,  barely  tinted  with  color, 
dully  wondering  why  it  should  be  so  different  from  the 


KEZANOV  67 

one  roguish,  pathetically  innocent,  that  had  haunted  him 
all  day.  He  asked  abruptly: 

"Which  is  the  friend  whose  little  ones  you  envy? 
You  have  made  me  wish  to  see  them  and  her." 

"That  is  Elena — beside  Gervasio."  She  indicated  a 
young  woman  with  soft  patient  brown  eyes,  the  dignity 
of  her  race  and  the  sweetness  of  young  motherhood, 
who  would  have  looked  little  older  than  herself  had  it 
not  been  for  an  already  shapeless  figure.  "I  can  take 
you  to-morrow  to  see  them  if  you  wish." 

She  had  cast  down  her  eyes  and  her  face  was  white. 
Still  he  groped  on. 

"Pardon  me  if  I  say  that  I  am  surprised  your  par- 
ents should  permit  such  a  woman  as  this  Eosa  to  attend 
you.  Why  should  your  happy  life  be  disturbed  by  the 
lamentations  of  an  abandoned  creature — who  can  do  you 
no  good,  and  possibly  much  harm?" 

Still  Concha  did  not  raise  her  eyes.  "I  do  not  think 
poor  Rosa  would  do  anyone  harm.  But  perhaps  it  were 
as  well  she  went  elsewhere.  We  have  had  her  long 
enough.  I  have  taken  a  dislike  to  her.  I  reproach 
myself  bitterly,  but  I  cannot  help  it.  I  should  like  never 
to  see  her  again." 

"What  has  she  told  you?"  Concha  glanced  up 
swiftly.  His  eyes  were  blazing.  She  felt  quite  certain 
that  he  rolled  a  Russian  oath  under  his  tongue,  and  she 
made  a  slight  involuntary  motion  toward  him,  her  lips 
trembling  apart. 

"Nothing,"  she  murmured.  "I  do  not  know — I  do 
not  know.  But  I  no  longer  wish  her  near  me.  She — 
life  is  very  strange  and  terrible,  senor.  You  know  it 
well— I,  so  little." 

Rezanov  felt  his  breath  short  and  his  hands  cold. 
For  a  moment  he  made  no  reply.  Then  he  smiled 
charmingly  and  said  in  the  conventional  tone  that  was 
ever  at  his  command:  "Of  course  you  know  little  of 
life  in  this  Arcadia.  One  who  hopes  to  be  numbered 
among  the  best  of  your  friends  prays  that  you  never 
may.  Yes,  senorita,  life  is  strange — strangely  common- 


68    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

place  and  disillusionizing — but  sometimes  picturesque. 
Believe  me  when  I  say  that  nothing  stranger  has  ever 
befallen  me  than  to  find  out  here  on  the  lonely  brink 
of  a  continent  nearly  twenty  thousand  versts  from 
Europe,  a  girl  of  sixteen  with  the  grand  manner,  and  an 
intellect  without  the  detestable  idiosyncrasies  of  the 
fashionable  bas  bleus  I  have  hitherto  had  the  misfortune 
to  encounter." 

She  was  tapping  the  table  slowly  with  her  fork,  and 
he  noted  that  her  soft  childish  mouth  was  set.  ''No 
doubt  you  are  quite  right  to  put  me  off, ' '  she  said  finally, 
and  in  a  voice  as  even  as  his  own.  "And  my  intellect 
would  do  me  little  good  if  it  did  not  teach  me  to  ignore 
mysteries  I  can  never  hope  to  fathom.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  life  in  your  sense  in  this  forgotten  corner  of 
the  world,  nor  ever  will  be  in  my  time.  If  you  come 
back  and  visit  us  twenty  years  hence  you  will  find  me 
fat  and  worn  like  Elena,  and  busy  every  minute  like 
my  mother — unless,  indeed,  I  marry  Don  Weeliam 
Sturgis  and  become  a  great  lady  in  Boston.  It  would 
not  be  so  mean  a  fate." 

Rezanov  darted  a  look  of  angry  contempt  at  the  pale 
young  man  who  was  eating  little  and  miserably  watch- 
ing the  handsome  pair  at  the  head  of  the  table.  "You 
will  not  marry  him!"  he  said  briefly. 

"I  could  do  far  worse."  Concha's  lashes  framed  an 
adorable  glance  that  sent  the  blood  to  the  hair  of  the 
sensitive  youth.  "You  have  no  idea  how  clever  and  good 
he  is.  And — Madre  de  Dios! — I  am  so  tired  of  Cali- 
fornia." 

"But  you  are  a  part  of  it — the  very  symbol  of  its 
future,  it  seems  to  me.  I  wish  I  had  a  sculptor  in  my 
suite.  I  should  make  him  model  you,  label  the  statue 
'  California, '  and  erect  it  on  the  peak  of  that  big  island 
out  there." 

"That  is  very  poetical,  but  after  all  you  are  only 
saying  that  I  am  a  pretty  savage  with  an  education 
that  will  be  more  common  in  the  next  generation.  It  is 
little  consolation  for  an  existence  where  the  most  ex- 


REZANOV  69 

citing  event  in  a  lifetime  is  the  arrival  of  a  foreign 
ship  or  the  inauguration  of  a  governor."  And  once 
more  she  smiled  at  Sturgis.  He  raised  his  glass  impul- 
sively, and  she  hers  in  gay  response.  A  moment  later 
she  gave  the  signal  to  leave  the  table.  Kezanov  fol- 
lowed her  back  to  the  sala  chewing  the  cud  of  many 
reflections. 


x     , 

CONCHA  had  eaten  no  supper.  As  she  entered  the  sala 
she  clapped  her  hands,  the  guests  ranged  themselves 
against  the  wall,  the  musicians,  livelier  than  ever,  flew 
to  their  instruments;  with  the  drifting  swaying 
movement  she  could  assume  at  will,  she  went  slowly, 
absently,  to  the  middle  of  the  room.  Then  she  let  her 
head  drop  backward,  as  if  with  the  weight  of  her  hair, 
and  Rezanov,  vaguely  angry,  expected  one  of  those 
appeals  to  the  senses  for  which  Spanish  women  of  an- 
other sort  were  notorious.  But  Concha,  after  tapping 
the  floor  alternately  with  the  points  and  the  wooden  heels 
of  her  slippers,  for  a  few  moments,  suddenly  made  an 
imperious  gesture  to  Ignacio  Sal.  He  sprang  to  her 
side,  took  her  hand,  and  once  more  there  was  the  same 
monotonous  tapping  of  toes  and  heels.  Then  they 
whirled  apart,  bent  their  lithe  backs  until  their  brows 
almost  touched  the  floor  in  a  salute  of  mock  admiration, 
and  danced  to  and  from  each  other,  coquetry  in  the  very 
tilt  of  her  eyebrows,  the  bare  semblance  of  masculine 
indulgence  on  his  eager  passionate  face.  Suddenly  to 
the  surprise  of  all,  she  snapped  her  fingers  directly  un- 
der his  nose,  waved  her  hand,  turned  her  back,  and 
made  a  peremptory  gesture  to  that  other  enamoured 
young  swain,  Captain  Antonio  Castro  of  Monterey.  Don 
Ignacio,  surprised  and  discomfited,  retired  amidst  the 
jeers  of  his  friends,  and  Concha,  with  her  most  vivacious 
and  gracious  manner,  met  Castro  halfway,  and,  taking 
his  hand,  danced  up  and  down  the  sala,  slowly  and  with 
many  improvisations.  Then,  as  they  returned  to  the 
center  of  the  room  and  stepped  lightly  apart  before 
joining  in  a  gay  whirl,  she  snapped  her  fingers  under 
his  nose,  made  a  gesture  of  dismissal  over  her  shoulder, 

70 


REZANOV  71 

and  fluttered  an  uplifted  hand  in  the  direction  of  Stur- 
gis.  Again  there  was  delighted  laughter,  again  a  dis- 
comforted knight  and  a  triumphant  partner. 

"Concha  always  gives  us  something  we  do  not  ex- 
pect," said  Santiago  to  Rezanov,  whose  eyes  were  twin- 
kling. "The  other  girls  dance  El  Son  and  La  Jota 
very  gracefully — yes.  But  Conchita  dances  with  her 
head,  and  the  musicians  and  the  partner,  when  she  takes 
one,  have  all  they  can  do  to  follow.  She  will  choose 
you,  next,  senor." 

Rezanov  turned  cold,  and  measured  the  distance  to 
the  door.  ' '  I  hope  not ! "  he  said.  ' '  I  should  hate  noth- 
ing so  much  as  to  make  an  exhibition  of  myself.  The 
dances  I  know — that  is  all  very  well — but  to  improvise 
— for  the  love  of  heaven  help  me  to  get  out ! ' ' 

But  Santiago,  who  was  watching  his  sister  intently, 
replied:  "Wait  a  moment,  Excellency.  I  do  not  think 
she  will  choose  another.  I  know  by  her  feet  that  she 
intends  to  dance  El  Son — in  her  own  way,  of  course — 
after  all." 

Concha  circled  about  the  room  twice  with  Sturgis, 
lifted  him  to  the  seventh  heaven  of  expectancy,  dis- 
missed him  as  abruptly  as  the  others.  Lifting  her  chin 
with  an  expression  of  supreme  disdain  for  all  his  sex, 
she  stood  a  moment,  swaying,  her  arms  hanging  at  her 
sides. 

"I  am  glad  she  will  not  dance  with  Weeliam,"  mut- 
tered Santiago.  ' '  I  love  him — yes ;  but  the  Spanish 
dance_is  not  for  the  Bostonian." 

Rezanov  awaited  her  performance  with  an  interest 
that  caused  him  some  cynical  amusement.  But  in  a 
moment  he  had  surrendered  to  her  once  more  as  a  crea- 
ture of  inexhaustible  surprise.  The  musicians  watching 
her  began  to  play  more  slowly.  Concha,  her  arms  still 
supine,  her  head  lifted,  her  eyes  half  veiled,  began  to 
dance  in  a  stately  and  measured  fashion  that  seemed  to 
powder  her  hair  and  dissolve  the  partitions  before  an 
endless  vista  of  rooms.  Rezanov  had  a  sudden  vision  of 
the  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors  in  the  royal  palace  at 


72    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Madrid,  where,  when  a  young  man  on  his  travels,  he 
had  attended  a  state  ball.  There  he  had  seen  the  most 
dignified  beauties  of  Europe  dance  at  the  most  formal 
of  its  courts.  But  Concha  created  the  illusion  of  hav- 
ing stepped  down  from  the  throne  in  some  bygone  fash- 
ion to  dance  alone  for  her  subjects  and  adorers. 

She  raised  her  arms,  barely  budding  at  the  top,  with 
a  gesture  that  was  not  only  the  poetry  of  grace  but  as 
though  bestowing  some  royal  favor;  when  she  curved 
and  swayed  her  body,  again  it  was  with  the  lofty  sweet- 
ness of  one  too  highly  placed  to  descend  to  mere  seduc- 
tiveness. She  glided  up  and  down,  back  and  forth,  with 
a  dreamy  revealing  motion  as  if  assisting  to  shape  some 
vague  impassioned  image  in  the  brain  of  a  poet.  She 
lifted  her  little  feet  in  a  manner  that  transformed  boards 
into  clouds.  There  were  moments  when  she  seemed 
actually  to  soar. 

"She  is  a  little  genius !"  thought  Rezanov  enthusias- 
tically. "Anything  could  be  made  of  a  woman  like 
that." 

It  was  not  her  dancing  alone  that  interested  him,  but 
its  effect  on  her  audience.  The  young  men  had  begun 
with  audible  expressions  of  approval.  They  were  now 
shouting  and  stamping  and  clapping.  Suddenly,  as 
once  more  she  danced  back  to  the  very  center  of  the 
room,  her  bosom  heaving,  her  eyes  like  stars,  her  red  lips 
parted,  Don  Ignacio,  long  since  recovered  from  his 
spleen,  invaded  his  pocket  and  flung  a  handful  of  silver 
at  her  feet.  It  was  a  signal.  Gold  and  silver  coins, 
chains,  watches,  jewels,  bounced  over  the  floor,  to  be 
laughingly  ignored.  Rezanov  looked  on  in  amazement, 
wondering  if  this  were  a  part  of  the  performance  and 
if  he  should  follow  suit.  But  after  a  glance  at  the  faces 
of  the  young  men,  lost  to  everything  but  their  passion- 
ate admiration  for  the  unique  and  beautiful  dancing  of 
their  Favorita,  and  when  Sturgis,  after  wildly  searching 
in  his  pockets,  tore  a  large  pearl  from  the  lace  of  his 
stock,  he  doubted  no  longer — nor  hesitated.  Fastened 
by  a  blue  ribbon  to  the  fourth  button  of  his  closely 


REZANOV  73 

fitting  coat  was  a  golden  key,  the  outward  symbol  of 
his  rank  at  court.  He  detached  it,  then  made  a  sudden 
gesture  that  caught  her  attention.  For  a  moment  their 
eyes  met.  He  tossed  her  the  bauble,  and  mechanically 
she  lifted  her  hand  and  caught  it.  Then  she  laughed 
confusedly,  shrugged  her  shoulders,  bowed  graciously  to 
her  audience,  and  signalled  to  the  musicians  to  stop. 
Kezanov  was  at  her  side  in  a  moment. 

"You  must  be  tired,"  he  said.  "I  insist  that  you 
come  out  on  the  veranda  and  rest. ' ' 

"Very  well,"  she  said  indifferently;  "it  is  quite  time 
we  all  went  out  to  the  air.  Santiago  mio,  wilt  thou 
bring  my  reboso — the  white  one?" 

Santiago,  more  flushed  than  his  sister  at  her  triumphs, 
fetched  the  long  strip  of  silk,  and  Rezanov  detached 
her  from  her  eager  court  and  led  her  without.  Elena 
Castro  followed  closely,  yet  with  a  cavalier  of  her  own 
that  her  friend  might  talk  freely  with  this  interesting 
stranger.  The  night  air  was  cool  and  stimulating.  The 
hills  were  black  under  the  sparks  of  white  fire  in  the 
high  arch  of  the  California  sky.  In  the  Presidio  square 
were  long  blue  shadows  that  might  have  been  reflections 
of  the  smoldering  blue  beyond  the  stars.  Bezanov  and 
Concha  sat  on  the  railing  at  the  end  of  the  "corridor." 

"It  is  a  custom — all  that  very  material  admiration?" 
he  asked. 

"A  very  old  one,  but  not  too  often  followed.  Other- 
wise we  should  not  prize  it.  But  when  some  Favorita 
outdoes  herself  then  she  receives  the  greatest  reward 
that  man  can  think  of — gold  and  silver  and  jewels.  We 
do  not  dare  to  return  the  tributes  in  common  fashion, 
but  they  have  a  way  of  appearing  where  they  belong  as 
soon  as  their  owners  are  supposed  to  have  forgotten  the 
incident.  As  you  are  not  a  Californian,  senor,  I  take 
the  liberty  of  returning  this  without  any  foolish  sub- 
terfuge." She  handed  him  his  contribution.  "I  thank 
you  all  the  same.  It  was  a  spontaneous  act,  and  I  am 
very  proud." 

He  accepted  the  key  awkwardly,  not  daring  to  press 


74    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

it  upon  her,  with  the  obvious  banalities.  But  he  felt  a 
sudden  desire  to  give  her  something,  and,  nothing  better 
offering,  he  gathered  half  a  dozen  roses  and  laid  them 
on  her  lap. 

1 1 1  was  disappointed  that  you  did  not  wear  your  roses 
to-night,"  he  said.  "I  associate  them  with  you  in  my 
thoughts.  "Will  you  put  one  in  your  hair?" 

She  found  a  place  for  two  and  thrust  another  in  the 
neck  of  her  gown.  The  rest  she  held  closely  in  her 
hands.  Then  he  noticed  that  she  was  very  white,  and 
again  she  shivered. 

"You  are  cold  and  tired,"  he  murmured,  his  eyes 
melting  to  hers.  "It  was  entrancing,  but  I  hope  never 
to  see  you  give  so  much  of  yourself  to  others  again." 
His  hand  in  arranging  the  reboso  touched  hers.  It  lin- 
gered, and  she  stared  up  at  him,  helplessly,  her  eyes 
wide,  her  lips  parted.  She  reminded  him  of  a  rabbit 
caught  in  a  trap,  and  he  had  a  sudden  and  violent  re- 
vulsion of  feeling.  He  rose  and  offered  his  arm.  "I 
should  be  a  brute  if  I  kept  you  talking  out  here.  Slip 
off  and  go  to  bed.  I  shall  start  the  guests,  for  I  am 
very  tired  myself." 


XI 

HE  did  not  talk  with  her  again  for  several  days.  He 
called  in  state,  but  remained  only  a  few  moments.  His 
officers  went  to  several  impromptu  dances  at  the  Pre- 
sidio and  Mission,  but  he  pleaded  fatigue,  natural  in 
the  damaged  state  of  his  constitution,  and  left  the  ship 
only  for  a  gallop  over  the  hills  or  down  the  coast  with 
Luis  Argiiello. 

But  he  had  never  felt  better.  At  the  end  of  a  week 
his  pallor  had  gone,  his  skin  was  tanned  and  fresh. 
Even  his  wretched  crew  were  different  men.  They  were 
given  much  leave  on  shore,  and  already  might  be  seen 
escorting  the  serving-women  over  the  hills  in  the  late 
afternoon.  Rezanov  gave  them  a  long  rope,  although 
he  knew  they  must  be  germinating  with  a  mutinous  dis- 
taste of  the  Russian  north;  he  kept  a  strict  watch  over 
them  and  would  have  given  a  deserter  his  due  without 
an  instant's  pause. 

The  estaf ette  that  had  gone  with  Luis '  letters  to  Mon- 
terey had  taken  one  from  Rezanov  as  well,  asking  per- 
mission to  pay  a  visit  of  ceremony  to  the  Governor. 
Five  days  later  the  plenipotentiary  received  a  polite 
welcome  to  California,  and  protest  against  another  long 
journey ;  the  humble  servant  of  the  King  of  Spain  would 
himself  go  to  San  Francisco  at  once  and  offer  the  hos- 
pitality of  California  to  the  illustrious  representative 
of  the  Emperor  of  all  the  Russias. 

Rezanov  was  not  only  annoyed  at  the  Governor's  evi- 
dent determination  that  he  should  see  as  little  as  possible 
of  the  insignificant  military  equipment  of  California, 
but  at  the  delay  to  his  own  plans  for  exploration.  He 
knew  that  Luis  would  dare  take  him  upon  no  expedition 
into  the  heart  of  the  country  without  the  consent  of  the 

75 


76    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Governor,  and  lie  began  to  doubt  this  consent  would  be 
given.  But  he  was  determined  to  see  the  bay,  at  least, 
and  he  no  sooner  read  the  diplomatic  epistle  from  Mon- 
terey than  he  decided  to  accomplish  this  part  of  his 
purpose  before  the  arrival  of  the  Governor  or  Don  Jose. 
He  knew  the  material  he  had  to  deal  with  at  the  mo- 
ment, but  nothing  of  that  already,  no  doubt,  on  their 
way  to  the  north. 

Early  in  the  morning  after  the  return  of  the  courier 
he  wrote  an  informal  note  to  Dona  Ignacia,  asking  her 
to  give  him  the  honor  of  entertaining  her  for  a  day  on 
the  Juno,  and  to  bring  all  the  young  people  she  would. 
As  the  weather  was  so  fine,  he  hoped  to  see  them  in 
time  for  chocolate  at  nine  o'clock.  He  knew  that  Luis, 
who  was  pressingly  included  in  the  invitation,  had 
left  at  daybreak  for  his  father 's  rancho  some  thirty  miles 
to  the  south. 

There  was  a  flutter  at  the  Presidio  when  the  invita- 
tion of  the  Chamberlain  was  made  known.  The  compli- 
ment was  not  unexpected,  but  there  had  been  a  lively 
speculation  as  to  what  form  the  Russian 's  return  of 
hospitality  would  take.  Concha,  whose  tides  had  thun- 
dered and  ebbed  many  times  since  the  night  of  her 
party,  submerging  the  happy  inconsequence  of  her  six- 
teen years,  but  leaving  her  unshaken  spirit  with  wide 
clarified  vision,  felt  young  to-day  from  sheer  reaction. 
She  would  listen  to  no  protest  from  her  prudent  mother, 
and  smothered  her  with  kisses  and  a  torrent  of  words. 

"But,  my  Conchita,"  gasped  Dona  Ignacia,  "I  have 
much  to  do.  Thy  father  and  his  excellency  come  in 
two  days.  And  perhaps  they  would  not  approve — be- 
fore they  are  here ! — to  go  on  the  foreign  ship !  If  Luis 
were  not  gone !  Ay  yi !  Ay  yi ! ' ' 

1 1  We  go,  we  go,  madre  mia !  And  his  excellency  will 
give  you  a  shawl.  I  feel  it !  I  know  it !  And  if  we  go 
now  we  disobey  no  law.  Have  they  ever  said  we  could 
not  visit  a  foreign  ship  when  they  were  not  here?  We 
are  light-headed,  irresponsible  women.  And  if  they 
should  not  not  let  us  go !  If  the  Governor  and  the  Rus- 


REZANOV  77 

sian  should  disagree !  Now  we  have  the  opportunity  for 
such  a  day  as  we  never  have  had  before.  We  should  be 
imbeciles.  We  go,  madre  mia,  we  go!" 

So  it  proved.  At  a  few  minutes  before  nine  the  Senora 
Argiiello,  clad  in  her  best  black  silk  skirt  and  jacket,  a 
red  shawl  embroidered  with  yellow  draped  over  her  bust 
with  unconquerable  grace,  and  a  black  reboso  folded 
about  her  fine  proud  head,  rode  down  to  the  beach  with 
Ana  Paula  on  the  aquera  behind  and  Gertrudis  Rudi- 
sinda  on  her  arm.  The  boys  howled  on  the  corridor,  but 
the  good  seiiora  felt  that  she  could  not  too  liberally 
construe  the  kind  invitation  of  a  chamberlain  of  the 
Russian  Court. 

Behind  her  rode  Concha,  in  white  with  a  pink  reboso ; 
Rafaella  Sal,  Carolina  Ximeno,  Herminia  Lopez,  Delfina 
Rivera,  the  only  other  girls  at  the  Presidio  old  enough 
to  grace  such  an  occasion;  Sturgis,  who  happened  to 
have  spent  the  night  at  the  Presidio,  Gervasio,  Santiago 
and  Lieutenant  Rivera.  Castro  had  returned  to  Mon- 
terey, Sal  was  officer  of  the  day,  and  the  other  young 
men  had  sulkily  declined  to  be  the  guests  of  a  man  who 
looked  as  haughty  as  the  Tsar  himself  and  betrayed  no 
disposition  to  recognize  in  Spain  the  first  nation  of 
Europe.  But  no  one  missed  them.  The  girls,  in  their 
flowered  muslins  and  bright  rebosos,  the  men  in  gay 
serapes  and  embroidered  botas,  looked  a  fine  mass  of 
color  as  they  galloped  down  to  the  beach  and  laughed 
and  chattered  as  youth  must  on  so  glorious  a  morning. 
Even  Sturgis,  always  careful  to  be  as  nearly  one  with 
these  people  as  his  different  appearance  and  tempera- 
ment would  permit,  wore  clothes  of  green  linen,  a  ruf- 
fled shirt,  deer-skin  botas  and  sombrero. 

Three  of  the  ship's  canoes  awaited  the  guests,  and  as 
not  one  of  the  women  had  ever  set  foot  in  a  boat,  there 
was  a  chorus  of  shrieks.  Dona  Ignacia  murmured  an 
audible  prayer,  and  clutched  Gertrudis  Rudisinda  to 
her  breast. 

"Madre  de  Dios!  The  water!  I  cannot!"  she  mut- 
tered. But  Santiago  took  her  firmly  by  one  elbow, 


78    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Sturgis  by  the  other,  Davidov  caught  up  the  children 
with  a  reassuring  laugh,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  trem- 
bling in  the  middle  of  the  canoe.  Concha  had  already 
leaped  into  the  second  and  waved  a  careless  little  salu- 
tation to  the  Juno.  Her  eyes  sparkled.  Her  nostrils 
fluttered.  She  felt  indifferent  to  everything  but  the 
certain  pleasure  of  the  day.  Rezanov  was  sure  to  be 
charming.  What  mattered  the  morrow,  and  possible 
nights  of  doubt,  despair,  hatred  of  life  and  wondering 
self-contempt  ? 

Rezanov  awaited  the  canoes  in  the  prow  of  the  ship. 
He  wore  undress  uniform  and  a  cap  instead  of  the 
cocked  hat  of  ceremony  which  had  excited  their  awe.  He 
too  tingled  with  a  sense  of  youthful  gaiety  and  adven- 
ture. As  he  helped  his  guests  up  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
and  listened  to  the  delighted  laughter  of  the  girls,  saw 
the  dancing  eyes  of  even  the  haughty  and  reserved  San- 
tiago, he  also  dismissed  the  morrow  from  his  thoughts. 

As  Dona  Ignacia  was  hauled  to  the  deck,  uttering 
embarrassed  apologies  for  bringing  the  two  little  girls, 
Rezanov  protested  that  he  adored  children,  patted  their 
heads,  and  told  off  a  young  sailor  to  amuse  them. 

Four  tables  on  the  deck  were  set  with  coffee,  choco- 
late, Russian  tea,  and  strange  sweets  that  the  cook  had 
fashioned  from  ingredients  to  which  his  skilful  fingers 
had  long  been  strangers. 

Dona  Ignacia  sat  beside  the  host,  and  when  she  had 
tried  both  the  tea  and  the  coffee  and  had  demanded  the 
recipe  of  the  sweets,  he  said  casually:  "After  break- 
fast I  shall  ask  you  to  go  down  to  the  cabin  for  a  few 
moments.  I  bought  the  cargo  with  the  Juno,  and  find 
there  are  several  articles  which  I  shall  beg  as  a  great 
favor  to  present  to  my  kindest  of  hostesses  and  the  young 
girls  she  has  been  good  enough  to  bring  to  my  ship. 
Shawls  and  ells  of  cotton  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  are 
of  no  use  to  a  bachelor,  and  I  hope  you  will  rid  me  of 
some  of  them." 

Dona  Ignacia  lost  all  interest  in  the  breakfast,  and 
presently,  murmuring  an  excuse,  was  escorted  by  Langs- 


REZANOV  79 

dorff  down  to  the  cabin.  When  the  light  repast  was 
over,  Rezanov  made  a  signal  to  several  sailors  who 
awaited  commands,  and  they  sprang  to  the  anchor  and 
sails. 

1 '  We  are  going  to  have  a  cruise, ' '  announced  the  host 
to  his  guests.  "The  bay  is  very  smooth,  there  is  a  fine 
breeze,  we  shall  neither  be  becalmed  nor  otherwise  the 
sport  of  inclement  waters.  I  know  that  most  of  you  have 
never  seen  this  beautiful  bay  and  that  you  will  enjoy 
its  scenery  as  much  as  I  shall." 

He  moved  to  Concha's  side  and  dropped  his  voice. 
' '  This  is  for  you,  senorita, ' '  he  said.  ' '  You  want  change, 
variety,  and  I  have  planned  to  give  you  all  that  I  can 
in  one  day.  I  expect  you  to  be  happy." 

"I  shall  be,"  she  said  dryly,  "if  only  in  watching  a 
diplomat  get  his  way.  You  will  see  every  corner  of  our 
bay,  and  I  shall  have  the  delightful  sensation  of  doing 
something  naughty  for  which  I  cannot  be  held  respon- 
sible." 

He  laughed.  ' '  I  am  quite  willing  that  you  should  un- 
derstand me,"  he  said.  "But  it  is  true  that  I  thought 
as  much  of  you  as  of  myself. ' ' 

In  a  few  moments  the  ship  was  under  way.  Santiago 
and  Sturgis  had  gone  down  to  the  cabin  to  reassure 
Dona  Ignacia,  who  uttered  a  loud  cry  as  the  Juno  gave 
a  preliminary  lurch.  Gervasio  and  Rivera  had  opened 
their  eyes  as  Rezanov  abruptly  unfolded  his  plan,  but 
dropped  them  sleepily  before  the  delight  of  the  girls. 
After  all,  it  was  none  of  their  affair,  and  what  was  a 
bay?  If  they  requested  him,  as  a  point  of  honor,  to 
refrain  from  examining  the  battery  of  Yerba  Buena 
with  his  glass,  their  consciences  would  be  as  light  as 
their  hearts. 

As  Eezanov  stood  alone  with  Concha  in  the  prow  of 
the  ship  and  alternately  cast  softened  eyes  on  her  intense 
rapt  face,  and  shrewd  glances  on  the  ramifications  of 
the  bay,  he  congratulated  himself  upon  his  precipitate 
action  and  the  collusion  of  nature.  They  were  sailing 
east,  and  would  turn  to  the  north  in  a  moment.  The 


80    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

mountain  range  bent  abruptly  at  the  entrance  to  the  bay, 
encircling  the  immense  sheet  of  water  in  a  chain  of 
every  altitude  and  form:  a  long  hard  undulating  line 
against  the  bright  blue  sky ;  smooth  and  dimpled  slopes, 
as  round  as  cones,  bare  but  for  the  green  of  their  grasses ; 
lofty  ridges  tapering  to  hills  in  the  curve  at  the  north 
but  with  blue  peaks  multiplying  beyond.  There  were 
dense  forests  in  deep  canons  on  the  mountainside,  bare 
and  jagged  heights,  the  graceful  sweep  of  valleys,  prom- 
ontories leaping  out  from  the  mainland  like  mammoth 
crocodiles  guarding  the  bay.  The  view  of  the  main 
waters  was  broken  by  the  largest  of  the  islands,  but  far 
away  were  the  hills  of  the  east  and  the  soft  blue  peaks 
behind.  And  over  all,  hills  and  valley  and  canon  and 
mountain,  was  a  bright  opalescent  mist.  Green,  pink, 
and  other  pale  colors  gleamed  as  behind  a  thin  layer  of 
crystal.  "Where  the  sun  shone  through  a  low  white 
cloud  upon  a  distant  slope  there  might  have  been  a 
great  globe  of  iridescent  glass  illuminated  within.  The 
water  was  a  light  soft  filmy  yet  translucent  blue.  Con- 
cha gazed  with  parted  lips. 

"I  never  knew  before  how  wonderful  it  was,"  she 
murmured.  "I  have  been  taught  to  believe  that  only 
the  south  is  beautiful,  and  when  we  had  to  come  here 
again  from  Santa  Barbara  it  was  exile.  But  now  I  am 
glad  I  was  born  in  the  north." 

"I  have  watched  the  lights  on  these  hills  and  islands, 
and  what  I  could  see  of  the  fine  lines  of  the  mountains, 
ever  since  I  came,  and  were  there  but  villas  and  castles, 
these  waters  would  be  far  more  beautiful  than  the  Lake 
of  Como  'or  the  Bay  of  Naples.  But  I  am  glad  to  see 
trees  again.  From  our  anchorage  I  had  but  a  bare 
glimpse  of  two  or  three.  They  seem  to  hide  from  the 
western  winds.  Are  they  so  strong,  then  ? ' ' 

* '  We  have  terrible  winds,  sefior.  I  do  not  wonder  the 
trees  crouch  to  the  east.  But  I  must  tell  you  our  names. ' ' 
She  pointed  to  the  largest  of  the  islands,  a  great  bare 
mass  that  looked  as  had  it  been,  when  viscid,  flung  out 
in  long  folds  from  a  central  peak,  concaving  here  and 


REZANOV  81 

* 

there  with  its  own  weight.  Its  southern  point  was  on  a 
line  with  a  point  of  mainland  far  to  the  west,  and  its 
northern,  from  their  vantage  looking  to  be  but  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  curve  of  the  mainland,  finished  an  arc 
of  almost  perfect  proportions,  whose  deep  curve  was  a 
tumbled  mass  of  hills  and  one  great  mountain.  "That 
is  Nuestra  Sefiora  de  los  Angeles,  and  it  opens  a  triple 
jaw,  Luis  has  told  me,  at  Point  Tiburon — you  will  soon 
see  the  straits  between.  The  big  rock  behind  us  is  Al- 
catraz,  and  farther  away  still  is  Yerba  Buena — that 
looks  like  a  camel  on  its  knees. ' ' 

But  Rezanov  was  examining  the  scene  before  him.  The 
lines  of  this  bay  within  a  bay  were  superb,  and  in  its 
wide  embrace,  slanting  from  Point  Tiburon  toward  an 
inner  point  two  miles  opposite  was  another  island,  as 
steep  as  Alcatraz,  but  long  and  waving  of  outline,  with 
a  glimpse  of  trees  on  its  crest.  Rezanov,  while  he  lost 
nothing  of  the  picturesque  beauty  surrounding  him, 
was  more  deeply  interested  in  noting  the  many  founda- 
tions, sheltered  and  solid,  for  fortifications  that  would 
hold  these  rich  lands  against  the  fleets  of  the  world. 
Never  had  he  seen  so  many  strategic  advantages  on  one 
sheet  of  water.  The  islands  farther  south  he  had  exam- 
ined through  his  glass  from  the  deck  of  the  Juno  until 
he  knew  every  convolution  they  turned  to  the  west. 

Concha  was  directing  his  attention  to  the  tremendous 
angular  peak  rising  above  the  tumbled  hills.  "That  is 
Mount  Tamalpais — the  mountain  of  peace.  It  was  named 
by  the  Indians,  not  by  us.  Sometimes  it  is  like  a  great 
purple  shadow,  and  at  others  the  clouds  fight  about  it 
like  the  ghosts  of  big  sea-gulls. ' '  They  were  sailing  past 
the  rounded  end  of  the  western  inner  point  of  the  little 
bay.  It  was  almost  detached  from  the  bare  ridge  be- 
hind and  half  covered  with  oaks  and  willow  trees.  ' i  That 
is  Point  Sausalito.  I  have  often  looked  at  it  through  the 
glass  and  longed  for  a  merienda  in  the  deep  shade. " 
She  turned  to  Rezanov  with  lips  apart.  * '  Could  we  not 
— oh,  senor! — have  our  dinner  on  shore?" 

"It  is  only  for  you  to  select  the  spot.    We  can  sail 


82    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

many  miles  before  it  is  time  for  dinner,  and  you  may 
find  a  place  even  more  to  your  liking.  I  fancy  we  can- 
not go  far  here.  It  looks  swampy  and  shallow.  Nothing 
could  be  less  romantic  than  to  stick  in  the  mud." 

"May  I  ask/'  said  Concha  demurely,  "how  you  dare 
to  run  the  risks  of  an  unknown  sheet  of  water  ?  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  there  is  more  than  one  rock  and  shoal 
in  this  bay. ' ' 

' 1 1  am  not  as  rash  as  I  may  appear,  ' '  replied  Rezanov 
dryly,  but  smiling.  ' '  In  1789  there  was  a  chart  of  this 
bay,  taken  from  a  Spanish  MSS.,  published  in  London ; 
and  I  bought  it  there  when  I  ran  up  from  the  Nadeshda 
— anchored  at  Falmouth — three  years  ago.  Davidov, 
who,  you  may  observe,  is  steering,  oblivious  to  the  charms 
of  even  Dona  Carolina,  knows  every  sounding  by  heart. ' ' 

"  Oh ! "  Concha  shrugged  her  shoulders.  ' '  The  Gov- 
ernor, too,  is  very  clever.  It  will  be  a  drawn  battle. 
Perhaps  I  shall  remain  neutral  after  all.  It  would  be 
more  amusing."  The  ship  was  turning,  and  she  waved 
her  hand  to  the  island  between  the  deep  arc  of  the  hilly 
coast.  "I  have  heard  so  much  of  the  beauty  of  that 
island/'  she  said,  "that  I  have  called  it  La  Bellissima, 
but  I  never  hoped  to  see  anything  but  the  back  of  its 
head,  from  which  the  wind  has  blown  all  the  hair.  And 
now  I  shall.  How  kind  of  you,  sefior ! ' ' 

"How  easily  you  are  made  happy!"  he  said,  with  a 
sigh.  "You  look  like  a  child." 

'  *  To-day  I  shall  be  one ;  and  you  the  kind  fairy  god- 
father," she  added,  with  some  malice.  "How  old  are 
you,  senor?" 

"Forty-two." 

"That  is  twenty-six  years  older  than  myself.  But 
your  excellency  might  pass  for  thirty-five,"  she  added 
politely.  "We  have  all  said  it.  And  now  that  you  are 
not  so  pale  you  will  soon  look  younger — and  even  more 
triumphant  than  when  you  came. ' ' 

"I  have  never  felt  so  triumphant  as  on  this  morning, 
dear  senorita.  I  had  not  hoped  to  give  you  so  much 
pleasure." 


REZANOV  83 

Her  cheeks  were  as  pink  as  her  rehoso,  her  great  black 
eyes  were  dancing.  Her  hands  strained  at  the  railing. 
"I  shall  see  La  Bellissima!  La  Bellissima ! "  she  cried. 

They  rounded  the  low  broken  point  of  the  island, 
sailed  through  the  racing  currents  between  the  lower 
end  of  La  Bellissima  and  "Our  Lady  of  the  Angels/' 
more  slowly  past  what  looked  to  be  a  perpendicular  for- 
est. From  water  to  crest  the  gulches  and  converging 
spurs  of  this  hillside  in  the  sea  were  a  dense  mass  of 
oaks,  bays,  underbrush;  here  and  there  a  tall  slender 
tree  with  a  bark  like  red  kid  and  a  flirting  polished  leaf, 
at  which  Concha  clapped  her  hands  as  at  sight  of  an  old 
friend  and  called  1 1  El  Madrono. ' '  It  was  a  primeval  bit 
of  nature,  but  sweet  and  silent  and  peaceful ;  there  was 
no  suggestion  either  of  gloom  or  of  discourteous  beast. 

"We  shall  have  our  dinner  here,  Excellency.  There 
on  that  little  beach;  and  afterward  we  shall  climb  to 
the  top.  See,  there  are  trails !  The  Indians  have  been 
here/' 

They  stood  out  through  the  straits  between  Point  Tib- 
uron  and  the  Isle  of  the  Angels,  where  the  tide  ran 
fast.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  was  Rezanov  able  to 
form  a  definite  idea  of  the  size  and  shape  of  this  great 
natural  harbor.  To  the  south  it  extended  beyond  the 
peninsula  in  an  unbroken  sheet  for  some  forty  English 
miles.  Ten  miles  to  the  north  there  was  a  gateway  be- 
tween the  lower  hills  which  Luis  had  alluded  to  as  lead- 
ing into  the  bay  of  Saint  Pablo,  another  large  body  of 
tidewater,  but  inferior  in  depth  and  beauty  to  the  Bay 
of  San  Francisco. 

The  mist  had  dissolved.  The  greens  were  vivid  where 
the  sun  shone  on  island  and  hill.  The  woods  of  Bell- 
issima, the  groves  of  Point  Sausalito,  the  forests  in  the 
northern  canons,  deepened  to  purple  like  that  of  the 
great  bare  sweep  of  Tamalpais.  Only  the  farther  peaks 
remained  a  pale  misty  blue,  and  were  of  an  indescrib- 
able floating  delicacy. 

Concha  pointed  to  the  eastern  double  cone.  ' l  That  is 
Monte  del  Diablo.  Once  they  say  it  spouted  fire,  but 


84    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

that  was  long  ago,  and  all  our  volcanoes  are  dead.  But 
perhaps  not  so  long  ago.  The  Indians  tell  the  strange 
story  that  their  grandfathers  remembered  when  this 
bay  was  a  valley  covered  with  oak  trees,  and  the  rivers 
of  the  north  flowed  through  and  emptied  into  Lake 
Merced  and  a  rift  by  the  Fort.  Then  came  a  tremendous 
earthquake  and  rent  the  mountains  apart  where  you 
came  through — we  call  it  the  Mouth  of  the  Gulf  of  the 
Farallones — the  valley  sank,  the  sea  flowed  in,  only  these 
hills  that  are  islands  now  keeping  their  heads  above 
the  flood.  Perhaps  it  is  true,  for  Drake  was  close  to 
this  bay  for  a  long  while  and  never  saw  it,  and  it  would 
have  given  him  a  better  shelter  than  the  little  harbor 
he  found  a  few  miles  higher  on  the  coast.  I  believe  it 
was  not  here.  Madre  de  Dios,  I  hope  California  shakes 
no  more.  She  would — is  it  not  true,  Excellency? — be 
the  most  perfect  country  in  all  the  world  did  she  not 
have  the  devil  in  her. ' ' 

"Are  you  afraid  of  earthquakes?"  asked  Rezanov, 
who  once  more  had  transferred  his  comprehensive  gaze 
from  battery  sites  to  her  face. 

"I  cross  myself.  It  is  like  feeling  your  grave  turn 
over.  But  I  fancy  the  poor  old  earth  is  like  the  people 
on  her;  she  gets  tired  of  being  good  and  is  all  the 
naughtier  for  having  been  sober  too  long.  Don  Vincente 
Rivera  is  an  example ;  he  is  cold,  haughty,  solemn,  stern 
to  others  and  himself,  as  you  see  him;  but  once  in  a 
while — Madre  de  Dios !  The  Presidio  does  not  sleep  for 
three  nights ! ' ' 

Rezanov  laughed  heartily,  then  turned  abruptly  away. 
"Come,"  he  said.  "I  had  almost  forgotten.  Will  you 
ask  the  others  to  go  to  the  cabin,  while  I  give  orders  that 
dinner  shall  be  served  on  your  island?" 

In  the  cabin,  Concha  forgot  him  for  a  few  moments. 
Her  mother,  her  eyes  dwelling  fondly  upon  several 
shawls  she  hoped  were  intended  for  herself  alone,  was 
hushing  the  baby  to  sleep  in  the  deep  chair  of  his  ex- 
cellency. Ana  Paula  was  playing  with  an  Alaskan  doll 
she  had  appropriated  without  ceremony.  Rezanov  came 


REZANOV  85 

in  when  his  guests  were  assembled,  and  he  had  a  gift 
for  each;  curious  objects  of  Alaskan  workmanship  for 
the  men,  miniature  totem  poles  and  fur-bordered  moc- 
casins ;  but  silk  and  cotton,  linen,  shawls,  and  fine  hand- 
kerchiefs for  senora  and  maiden. 

''They  are  trifles/'  he  said,  in  response  to  an  en- 
thusiastic chorus.  "The  cargo  I  was  obliged  to  take 
over  was  a  very  large  one.  You  must  not  protest.  I 
shall  never  miss  these  things."  And  he  knew  that  he 
had  sown  the  seeds  of  a  rapacity  similar  to  that  im- 
planted in  the  worthy  bosoms  of  the  priests  when  they 
had  paid  him  their  promised  visit.  If  the  Governor 
were  insensible  to  diplomacy  he  would  have  pressure 
brought  to  bear  upon  his  official  integrity  from  more 
quarters  than  one. 

"There  are  also  many  of  the  presents  rejected  by 
the  Mikado,  somewhere,"  he  added  carelessly.  "But  I 
could  not  find  them.  They  must  have  found  their  way 
to  the  bottom  of  the  hold  during  one  of  the  storms  we 
encountered  on  our  way  from  Sitka." 

He  certainly  looked  the  fairy  godfather,  and  quite 
impartial  as  he  distributed  his  offerings  with  a  chosen 
word  to  each;  his  memory  for  little  characteristics  was 
as  remarkable  as  for  names  and  faces.  He  had  taken 
off  his  cap  on  deck,  and  the  breeze  had  ruffled  his  thick 
fair  hair,  brought  the  blood  to  his  thin  cheeks.  The 
lines  of  his  face,  cut  by  privation  and  anxiety  and  ill- 
ness, had  almost  disappeared  with  the  renewed  elasticity 
of  the  flesh,  and  his  blue  eyes  were  wide  open,  and 
sparkling  in  sympathy  with  the  pleasure  of  his  guests 
and  the  success  of  his  own  strategy.  These  few  insig- 
nificant Spaniards  dislodged,  a  half-dozen  forts  in  this 
harbor,  and  the  combined  navies  of  the  world  might  be 
defied;  while  a  great  chain  of  hungry  settlements  fat- 
tened and  prospered  exceedingly  on  the  beneficence  of 
the  most  fertile  land  in  all  the  Americas. 


XII 

THE  eastern  mountains  looked  very  close  from  the  crest 
of  La  Bellissima  and  of  a  singular  transparency  and  va- 
riety of  hue.  It  was  as  if  the  white  masses  of  cloud 
sailing  low  overhead  flung  down  great  splashes  of  color 
from  prismatic  stores  stolen  from  the  sun.  There  was 
a  vivid  pale  green  on  the  long  sweep  of  a  rounding  slope, 
deep  violet  and  pale  purple  in  dimple  and  hollow,  red 
showing  through  green  on  a  tongue  of  land  running 
down  from  the  north ;  and  on  the  lower  ridges  and  little 
islands,  pale  and  dark  blue,  and  the  most  exquisite 
fields  of  lavender.  This  last  tint  was  reflected  in  the 
water  immediately  below  the  bridge,  and  farther  out 
there  were  lakelets  of  pale  green,  as  if  the  islands,  too, 
had  the  power  to  mirror  themselves  when  the  sea  itself 
was  glass. 

Santiago,  Davidov,  Carolina  Ximeno,  Delfina  Rivera, 
Concha  and  Rezanov,  had  climbed  to  the  ridge.  The 
other  young  people  had  given  out  halfway  up  the  steep 
and  tangled  ascent  and  returned  to  the  beach.  Dona 
Ignacia  immediately  after  dinner  had  frankly  asked  her 
host  for  the  hospitality  of  his  stateroom.  She  and  her 
little  ones  must  have  their  siesta,  and  the  good  lady  was 
convinced  that  so  high  and  mighty  a  personage  as  the 
Russian  Chamberlain  was  all  the  chaperon  the  proprie- 
ties demanded. 

Four  of  the  party  strayed  along  the  crest  in  search  of 
the  first  wild  pansies.  Rezanov  and  Concha  looked  under 
the  sloping  roof  of  brittle  leaves  into  dim  falling  vistas, 
arches,  arbors,  caverns,  a  forest  in  miniature  with  nat- 
ural terraces  breaking  the  precipitous  wall  of  the  island. 

"I  should  like  to  live  here,"  said  Concha  definitely. 

"It  would  make  a  fine  estate  for  summer  life — or 

86 


REZANOV  87 

for  a  honeymoon. ' '  He  smiled  down  upon  his  compan- 
ion, who  stood  very  tall  and  straight  and  proud  beside 
him.  "If  you  conclude  to  marry  your  little  Bostonian 
no  doubt  he  will  buy  it  for  you,"  he  said. 

If  he  had  hoped  to  see  a  look  of  blank  dismay  after 
his  hours  of  devotion  he  was  disappointed.  She  made  a 
little  face. 

' '  I  do  not  think  I  could  stand  a  desert  island  with  the 
good  Weeliam.  For  that  I  should  prefer  one  of  my  own 
sort — Ignacio,  or  Fernando.  Better  still,  I  could  come 
here  and  be  a  hermit." 

"A  hermit?" 

"In  some  ways  that  would  suit  me  very  well.  All 
human  beings  become  tiresome,  I  find.  I  shall  have  a 
little  hut  just  below  the  crest  where  I  can  look  from  my 
window  right  into  the  woods  that  are  so  quiet  and  green 
and  beautiful.  That  is  a  thought  that  has  always  fas- 
cinated me.  And  when  I  walk  on  the  crest  I  can  see  all 
the  beauty  of  mountain  and  bay.  What  more  could  I 
want?  What  more  have  you  in  your  world  when  you 
know  it  too  well,  seiior  ? ' ' 

"Nothing;  but  you  might  tire,  too,  of  this." 

"What  of  it?  It  would  be  the  gentle  sad  ennui  of 
peace,  not  of  disillusion.  I  think  you  have  suffered  much 
disillusion,  senor.  How  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  all 
you  know  of  life!" 

"God  forbid.  And  do  not  remind  me  of  ennui  and 
disillusions.  I  have  forgotten  both  in  California.  Per- 
haps, after  all,  I  shall  not  return  to  St.  Petersburg. 
There  is  a  vast  empire  here " 

' '  But  it  is  not  yours  or  Russia 's  to  rule,  Excellency, ' ' 
she  interrupted  him  softly. 

He  did  not  color  nor  start,  but  met  her  eyes  with  his 
deep  amused  glance.  ' '  I,  too,  can  dream,  senorita.  Of 
a  great  and  wonderful  kingdom — that  never  will  exist, 
perhaps.  I  have  always  been  called  a  dreamer,  but  the 
habit  has  grown  since  I  came  to  this  lovely  unreal  land 
of  yours." 


88    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"Have  you  the  intention  to  take  it  from  us,  Excel- 
lency?" she  asked  quietly. 

"Would  you  betray  me  if  you  thought  I  had?" 

Her  eyes  responded  for  a  moment  to  the  magnetism 
of  his,  and  then  she  drew  herself  up. 

"No,  senor,  I  could  not  betray  a  man  who  had  been 
our  guest,  and  Spain  needs  no  assistance  from  a  weak 
girl  to  hold  her  own  against  Russia. ' ' 

"Well  said !  I  kiss  your  hands,  as  they  say  in  Vienna. 
But  we  must  sail  again.  I  told  them  to  be  ready  at 
three  o'clock." 

Dalliance  with  the  most  alluring  girl  he  had  ever 
known  was  all  very  well,  but  the  day  ?s  work  was  not  yet 
done.  When  they  returned  to  the  ship  he  deliberately 
engaged  all  the  Spaniards  in  a  game  of  cards,  ordered 
cigarettes  and  a  bowl  of  punch  for  their  refreshment, 
and  then  the  Juno  steered  south. 

They  sailed  swiftly  past  Nuestra  Senorita  de  los  An- 
geles and  the  eastern  side  of  Alcatraz,  Rezanov  sweeping 
every  inch  with  his  glass;  more  slowly  past  the  peninsula 
where  it  came  down  in  a  succession  of  rough  hills  al- 
most in  a  straight  line  from  the  Presidio,  ascending  to 
a  high  outpost  of  solid  rock,  whence  it  turned  abruptly 
to  the  south  in  a  waving  line  of  steep  irregular  cliffs, 
harsh,  barren,  intersected  with  gullies.  Then  the  land 
became  suddenly  as  flat  as  the  sea,  save  for  the  shifting 
dunes,  the  desert  porch  of  the  great  fertile  valley  hidden 
from  the  water  by  the  waves  of  sand,  but  indicated  by 
its  rampart  of  mountains.  The  shallow  water  curved 
abruptly  inward  between  the  rocky  mass  on  the  right 
and  a  gentler  incline  and  point  two  miles  below.  At  its 
head  was  the  "Battery  of  Yerba  Buena,"  facing  the 
island  from  which  it  took  its  name.  Rezanov  scrupu- 
lously kept  his  word  and  did  not  raise  his  glass,  but  one 
contemptuous  glance  satisfied  his  curiosity.  His  eye 
rolled  over  the  steep  hills  that  were  designed  to  bristle 
with  forts,  and,  as  sometimes  happened,  when  he  spoke 
again  to  Concha,  whom  he  kept  close  to  his  side,  for 


KEZANOV  89 

the  other  girls  bored  him,  his  words  did  not  express 
the  workings  of  his  mind. 

"Athens  has  no  finer  site  than  this,"  he  said.  "I 
should  like  to  see  a  white  marble  city  on  these  hills,  and 
on  that  plain,  when  all  the  sand  dunes  are  leveled.  Not 
in  our  time,  perhaps!  But,  as  I  told  you,  I  have  sur- 
rendered myself  to  the  habit  of  dreaming. ' ' 

Concha  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  made  no  reply 
at  the  moment.  As  they  sailed  toward  the  east  before 
turning  south  again,  she  pointed  across  the  great  silvery 
sheet  of  water  melting  into  the  misty  southern  horizon, 
to  a  high  ridge  of  mountains  that  looked  to  be  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  San  Bruno  range  behind  the  Mission, 
but  slanting  farther  west  with  the  coast  line. 

"Those  are  behind  our  rancho,  senor — Rancho  El 
Pilar,  or  Las  Pulgas,  as  some  prefer.  Perhaps  my  father 
will  take  you  there.  I  hope  so,  for  we  love  to  go,  and 
may  not  too  often ;  my  father  is  very  busy  here.  He  is 
one  of  the  few  that  has  received  a  large  grant  of  land, 
and  it  is  because  the  clergy  love  him  so  much  they  op- 
pose his  wish  in  nothing.  Do  you  see  those  sharp  points 
against  the  sky?  They  are  the  tops  of  lofty  trees,  like 
the  masts  of  giant  ships,  and  with  many  rigid  arms 
spiked  like  the  pines.  You  saw  a  few  of  them  in  the 
hollow  below  Tamalpais,  but  up  on  those  mountains 
there  are  miles  and  miles  of  mighty  forests.  No  white 
man  has  ever  penetrated  them,  nor  ever  will,  perhaps. 
We  have  no  use  for  them,  and  even  if  you  made  this 
your  kingdom,  seiior,  I  suppose  not  many  would  come 
with  you.  Far,  far  down  where  the  water  stops  are  the 
Mission  of  Santa  Clara  and  the  pueblo  of  San  Jose ;  but 
I  have  heard  you  cannot  approach  within  many  miles 
of  the  land  in  a  boat. ' ' 

When  they  had  sailed  south  for  a  few  moments  the 
boat  came  about  abruptly.  Concha  laughed.  "I  had 
forgotten  the  chart.  I  rather  hoped  you  would  run  on 
a  shoal." 

But  as  they  approached  the  cove  of  Yerba  Buena 
again  she  caught  his  arm  suddenly,  unconscious  of  the 


90    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

act,  and  the  little  dancing  lights  of  humor  in  her  eyes 
went  out.  "Your  white  city,  senor!  Ay,  Dios!  what  a 
city  of  dreams  that  can  never  come  true ! ' ' 

The  soft  white  fog  that  sometimes,  even  at  this  sea- 
son, came  in  from  the  sea,  was  rolling  over  the  hills 
between  the  Battery  and  the  Presidio,  wreathing  about 
the  rocky  heights  and  slopes.  It  broke  into  domes  and 
cupolas,  spires  and  minarets.  Great  waves  rolled  over 
the  sand  dunes  and  beat  upon  the  cliffs  with  the  phan- 
toms clinging  to  its  sides.  Then  the  sun  struggled 
through;  for  a  moment  the  ghostly  city  was  iridescent 
with  a  thousand  colors.  The  sun  conquered,  the  mist 
shimmered  into  sunlight,  and  once  more  the  hills  were 
gray  and  bare. 

Rezanov  laughed,  but  his  eyes  glowed  down  upon  her. 
' '  I  am  not  sure  it  was  there, ' '  he  said.  '  *  I  have  an  idea 
your  imagination  and  touch  acted  as  a  sort  of  enchant- 
er 's  wand.  The  others  evidently  saw  nothing." 

"The  others  saw  only  fog  and  shivered.  But  it  was 
there,  senor!  "We  have  had  a  vision.  A  Russian  city! 

Ay,yi!" 

But  Rezanov  had  forgotten  the  city.  Her  reboso  had 
fallen  and  a  strand  of  her  hair  blew  across  his  face. 
His  lips  caught  it  and  his  eyes  burned.  They  rounded 
a  headland  and  the  world  looked  green  and  young. 

' '  Concha ! ' '  he  whispered. 

Her  eyes  flashed  and  melted,  she  lifted  her  chin ;  then 
burst  into  a  merry  ripple  of  laughter. 

"Senor!"  she  said,  "if  you  make  love  to  me,  I  shall 
have  to  compare  you  with  many  others,  and  I  might  not 
like  the  Russian  fashion.  You  are  much  better  as  you 
are — very  grand  seigneur,  iron-handed  and  absolute, 
haughty  and  arrogant,  but  the  most  charming  person  in 
the  world,  with  ends  to  gain,  even  from  such  humble 
folk  as  a  handful  of  stranded  Californians.  But  to  sigh ! 
to  languish  with  the  eye !  to  sing  at  the  grating !  I  fear 
that  the  lightest  headed  of  the  caballeros  you  despise 
could  transcend  you  in  all." 

"Very  likely!    I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  sigh- 


REZANOV  91 

ing  or  languishing  or  singing  at  gratings.  But  if  we 
were  alone  I  certainly  should  kiss  you." 

But  her  eyes  did  not  melt  again  at  the  vision.  She 
flushed  hotly  with  'annoyance.  ' '  I  am  a  child  to  you ! 
Were  it  not  that  I  have  read  a  few  books,  you  would 
find  me  but  a  year  older  than  Ana  Paula.  Well!  Re- 
gard me  as  a  child  and  do  not  attempt  to  flirt  with  me 
again.  Shall  it  be  so?" 

"As  you  wish!"  Rezanov  looked  at  her  half  in  re- 
sentment, half  wistfully,  then  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  called  to  Davidov  to  steer  for  the  anchorage.  She 
was  quite  right;  and  on  the  whole  he  was  grateful  to 
her. 


XIII 

" CONCHA/ '  said  Sturgis  abruptly,  ''will  you  marry 
me?" 

Concha,  who  was  sitting  in  the  shade  of  the  rose  vines 
on  the  corridor  making  a  dress  for'Gertrudis  Rudisinda, 
ran  the  needle  into  her  finger. 

"Madre  de  Dios!"  she  cried  angrily.  "Who  would 
have  expected  such  foolish  words  from  you?  and  now  I 
have  pricked  my  finger  and  stained  the  little  frock.  It 
will  have  to  be  washed  before  worn,  and  is  never  so 
pretty  after." 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Sturgis  humbly.  "But  it  seems 
to  me  that  if  a  man  wishes  to  marry  a  maid  he  should 
ask  her  in  a  straightforward  manner,  with  no  prelim- 
inary of  sighs  and  hints  and  serenades — and  all  sorts  of 
insincere  stage  play." 

"He  should  at  least  address  her  parents  first." 

"True.  I  was  wholly  the  American  for  the  moment. 
May  I  speak  to  Don  Jose  and  Dona  Ignacia,  Concha?" 

' '  How  can  I  prevent  ?  No,  I  will  not  coquet  with  you, 
Weeliam.  But  I  am  angry  that  you  have  thought  of 
such  nonsense.  Such  friends  we  were !  We  have  talked 
and  read  together  by  the  hour,  and  my  parents  have 
thought  no  more  of  it  than  it  had  been  Santiago.  There ! 
You  have  a  new  book  in  your  pocket.  Why  did  you 
not  read  it  to  me  instead  of  making  love?  Let  me  see 
it." 

' '  I  brought  it  to  read  later  if  you  wished,  but  I  came 
to  ask  you  to  marry  me  and  to  receive  your  answer.  I 
never  expected  to  ask  you — but — lately — things  have 
changed — life  seems,  somehow,  more  real.  The  thought 
of  losing  you  has  suddenly  become  terrible." 

"You  have  been  drinking  Eussian  tea,"  said  Concha, 

92 


REZANOV  93 

stitching  quietly  but  flashing  him  a  glance  of  amusement, 
not  wholly  without  malice. 

"It  is  true,"  he  replied.  "I  suppose  I  never  really 
believed  you  would  marry  Raimundo  or  Ignacio  or  any 
of  the  caballeros.  They  think  and  talk  of  nothing  but 
horse-racing,  gambling,  cock-fighting,  love  and  cigaritos. 
I  thought  of  you  always  here,  where  at  least  I  could  look 
at  you  or  read  with  you.  But  one  must  admit  that  this 
Russian  is  no  ordinary  man.  I  hate  him,  yet  like  him 
more  than  any  I  have  ever  met.  Last  night  I  stayed  to 
punch  with  him,  and  we  talked  English  for  an  hour. 
That  is  to  say,  he  did ;  I  could  have  listened  to  him  till 
morning.  Langsdorff  says  that  he  has  the  greatest 
possible  command  of  his  native  tongue,  but  he  speaks 
English  well  enough.  I  wish  I  could  despise  him,  but  I 
do  not  believe  I  even  hate  him." 

"Well?"  demanded  Concha.  She  kept  her  eyes  on 
her  work  (and  the  delight  that  rose  in  her  breast  from 
her  voice). 

"Well?" 

' '  Why  should  you  hate  him  ? ' ' 

"Do  you  ask  me  that,  Concha,  when  he  makes  a 
fence  of  himself  about  you,  and  his  fine  eyes — practised 
is  nearer  the  mark — look  at  no  one  else?" 

"But  why  should  that  cause  you  jealousy?  He  is  a 
man  of  the  world,  accustomed  to  make  himself  agree- 
able, and  I  am  the  daughter  of  the  Commandante. ' ' 

"He  is  more  in  love  with  you  than  he  knows." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Weeliam?"  Still  her  voice  was 
innocent  and  even,  although  the  color  rose  above  the 
inner  commotion.  l '  But  even  so,  what  of  it  ?  Have  not 
many  loved  me  ?  Am  I  to  be  won  by  the  first  stranger  ? ' ' 

"I  do  not  know." 

The  tumult  in  Concha  turned  to  wrath,  and  she  lifted 
flashing  eyes  to  his  moody  face.  "Do  you  presume  to 
say  you  are  jealous  because  you  think  I  love  him — a 
stranger  I  have  known  but  a  week — who  looks  upon  me 

as  a  child — who  has  never — never  thought "  But 

her  dignity,  flying  to  the  rescue,  assumed  control.  Her 


94    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

upper  lip  curled,  Tier  body  stiffened  for  a  moment,  and 
she  went  on  with  her  stitching.  ' '  You  deserve  I  should 
rap  your  silly  little  skull  with  my  thimble.  You  are 
no  better  than  Ignaeio  and  Fernando.  Such  scenes  as 
I  have  had  with  them !  They  wanted  to  fight  the  Rus- 
sian !  How  he  would  laugh  at  them !  I  have  threatened 
they  shall  both  be  sent  to  San  Diego  if  there  is  any  more 
nonsense."  Then  curiosity  overcame  her.  "You  never 
had  the  least,  least  reason  to  think  I  would  marry  you, 
and  now,  according  to  your  own  words,  you  think  you 
have  less.  Then  why,  pray,  did  you  address  me  ? " 

"Because  I  am  a  man,  I  suppose.  I  could  not  sit 
tamely  down  and  see  you  go. ' ' 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  slight  access  of  interest.  A 
man?  Perhaps  he  was,  after  all.  And  his  well-bred 
bony  face  looked  very  determined,  albeit  the  eyes  were 
wistful.  Suddenly  she  felt  sorry  for  him;  and  she  had 
never  experienced  a  pang  of  sympathy  for  a  suitor  be- 
fore. She  leaned  forward  and  patted  his  hand. 

"I  cannot  marry  you,  dear  Weeliam,"  she  said,  and 
never  had  he  seen  her  so  sweet  and  adorable,  although 
he  noted  with  a  pang  that  her  mouth  was  already  drawn 
with  a  firmer  line.  "But  what  matter?  I  shall  never 
marry  at  all.  For  many  years — forty,  fifty  perhaps — 
I  shall  sit  here  on  the  veranda,  and  you  shall  read  to 
me." 

And  then  she  shivered  violently.  But  she  set  her 
mouth  until  it  was  almost  straight,  and  picked  up  the 
little  dress.  "Not  that,  perhaps,"  she  said  quietly  in  a 
moment.  "I  sometimes  think  I  should  like  to  be  a  nun, 
that,  after  all,  it  is  my  vocation.  Not  a  cloistered  one, 
for  that  is  but  a  selfish  life.  But  to  teach,  to  do  good, 
to  forget  myself.  There  are  no  convents  in  California, 
but  I  could  join  the  Third  Order  of  the  Franciscans,  and 
wear  the  gray  habit,  and  be  set  aside  by  the  world  as 
one  that  only  lived  to  make  it  a  little  better.  To  forget 
oneself !  That,  after  all,  may  be  the  secret  of  happiness. 
I  envy  none  of  my  friends  that  are  married.  They 
have  the  dear  children,  it  is  true.  But  the  children  grow 


REZANOV  95 

up  and  go  away,  and  then  one  is  fat  and  eats  many 
dulces  and  the  siesta  grows  longer  and  longer  and  the 
face  very  brown.  That  is  life  in  California.  I  should 
prefer  to  work  and  pray,  and"-— with  a  flash  of  insight 
that  made  her  drop  her  work  again  and  stare  through 
the  rose-vines — "to  dream  always  of  some  beautiful 
thing  that  youth  promised  but  never  gave,  and  that  given 
might  have  ended  in  dull  routine  and  a  brain  so  choked 
with  little  things  that  memory  too  held  nothing  else. ' ' 

"But,  Concha,"  cried  Sturgis  eagerly,  "I  could  give 
you  far  better  than  that.  I  could  take  you  away,  from 
here — to  Boston,  to  Europe.  You  should  see — live  your 
life — in  the  great  cities  you  have  dreamed  of — that  you 
hardly  believe  in — were  made  to  enjoy.  I  have  told  you 
of  the  theater,  the  opera — you  should  go  to  the  finest  in 
the  world.  You  should  wear  the  most  beautiful  gowns 

and  jewels,  go  to  courts,  see  the  great  works  of  art 

I  am  not  trying  to  bribe  you,"  he  stammered,  flushing 
miserably.  "God  forbid  that  I  should  stoop  to  any- 
thing as  mean  as  that.  But  it  all  rushed  upon  me  sud- 
denly that  I  could  give  you  so  much  that  you  were  made 
for,  with  this  worthless  money  of  mine.  And  what  hap- 
piness to  be  in  Europe  with  you — what — what " 

His  voice  trembled  and  broke,  and  he  dared  not  look 
at  her.  Again  she  stared  through  the  vines.  A  splen- 
did and  thrilling  panorama  rose  beyond  them,  her  bosom 
heaved,  her  lips  parted.  She  saw  herself  in  it,  and  not 
alone.  And  not,  alas,  with  the  honest  youth  whose  words 
had  inspired  it.  In  a  moment  she  shook  her  head  and 
turned  her  kind  eyes  on  the  flushed  averted  face  of  her 
suitor. 

"I  shall  never  see  Europe,"  she  said  gently,  "and  I 
shall  never  marry. ' ' 

"Not  if  this  Russian  asks  you?"  cried  Sturgis,  in  his 
jealous  misery. 

But  Concha's  anger  did  not  rise  again.  "He  has  no 
intention  of  asking  a  little  California  girl  to  share  the 
honors  of  one  of  the  most  brilliant  careers  in  Europe," 
she  said  calmly.  ' '  Set  your  mind  at  rest.  He  has  paid 


96    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

me  no  more  attention  than  is  due  my  position  as  the 
daughter  of  the  Commandante,  and  perhaps  of  La  Fa- 
vorita.  If  I  flirt  a  little  and  he  flirts  in  response,  that 
is  nothing.  Is  he  not  then  a  man?  But  he  will  forget 
me  in  a  month.  The  world,  his  world,  is  full  of  pretty 
girls." 

"A  week  ago  you  would  not  have  said  that,"  said 
Sturgis  shrewdly.  ' l  There  has  been  nothing  in  your  life 
to  make  you  so  humble." 

"I  cannot  explain,  but  he  seems  to  have  brought  the 
great  world  with  him.  I  know,  I  understand  so  many 
things  that  I  had  not  dreamed  of  a  week  ago.  A  week ! 
Madre  deDios!" 

And  Sturgis,  who  after  all  was  a  gallant  gentleman, 
made  no  comment. 


XIV 

GOVERNOR  ARRILLAGA,  Commandante  Argiiello,  and 
Chamberlain  Bezanov  sat  in  the  familiar  sala  at  the 
Presidio  content  in  body  after  a  culinary  achievement 
worthy  of  Padre  Landaeta,  but  perturbed  and  alert  of 
mind.  Upon  the  arrival  of  the  two  Californian  digni- 
taries in  the  morning,  Bezanov  had  sent  Davidov  and 
Langsdorff  on  shore  to  assure  them  of  his  gratitude  and 
deep  appreciation  of  the  hospitality  shown  himself,  his 
officers  and  men.  The  Governor  had  replied  with  a  ful- 
some apology  for  not  repairing  at  once  to  the  Juno 
to  welcome  his  distinguished  guest  in  person,  and,  plead- 
ing his  age  and  the  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  Eng- 
lish miles  he  had  ridden  from  Monterey,  begged  him  as 
a  younger  man  to  waive  informality,  and  dine  at  the 
house  of  the  Commandante  that  very  day.  Bezanov  had 
complied  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  now  he  was  alone 
with  the  men  who  held  his  fate  in  their  hands.  The 
dark  worn  rugged  face  of  Don  Jose,  who  had  been  skil- 
fully prepared  by  his  oldest  daughter  to  think  well  of 
the  Bussian,  beamed  with  good-will  and  interest,  in 
spite  of  lingering  doubts;  but  the  lank  wiry  figure  of 
the  Governor,  who  was  as  dignified  as  only  a  blond 
Spaniard  can  be,  was  fairly  rigid  with  the  severe  for- 
mality he  reserved  for  occasions  of  ceremony — being  a 
gentleman  who  loved  good  company  and  cheer — and  his 
sharp  gray  eyes  were  almost  shut  in  the  effort  to  pene- 
trate the  designs  of  this  deputy,  this  symbol,  this  index 
in  cipher,  of  a  dreaded  race.  Bezanov  smoked  calmly, 
made  himself  comfortable  on  the  slippery  horse-hair 
chair,  though  with  no  loss  of  dignity,  and  beat  about 
the  bush  with  the  others  until  the  Governor  betrayed 
himself  at  last  by  a  chance  remark : 

97 


98    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

' '  What  you  say  of  the  neighborly  instincts  of  the  Rus- 
sian colonists  for  the  Spanish  on  this  coast  interests 
me  deeply,  Excellency,  but  if  Russia  is  at  war  with 
Spain— 

' '  Russia  is  not  at  war  with  Spain, ' '  said  Rezanov,  with 
a  flash  of  amusement  in  his  half-closed  eyes.  ' '  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  is  encamped  about  halfway  between  the  two 
countries.  They  could  not  get  at  each  other  if  they 
wished.  While  that  man  is  at  large,  Europe  will  be  at 
war  with  him,  no  two  nations  with  each  other." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Arrillaga.  "That  is  a  manner  of 
reasoning  that  had  not  occurred  to  me." 

The  Commandante  had  spat  at  the  mention  of  the 
usurper's  name  and  muttered  "Chinchosa!"  and  Reza- 
nov, recalling  his  first  conversation  with  Concha,  looked 
into  the  honest  eyes  of  the  monarchist  with  a  direct 
and  hearty  sympathy. 

"No  better  epithet  for  him,"  he  said.  "And  the 
sooner  Europe  combines  to  get  rid  of  him  the  better. 
But  until  it  does,  count  upon  a  common  grievance  to 
unite  your  country  and  mine." 

"Good!"  muttered  the  Governor.  "Good!  I  am 
glad  that  nightmare  has  lifted  its  bat's  wings  from  our 
poor  California.  Captain  0 'Cain's  raid  two  years  ago 
made  me  apprehensive,  for  he  took  away  some  eleven 
hundred  of  our  otter  skins  and  his  hunters  were  Aleu- 
tians— subjects  of  the  Tsar.  A  negro  that  deserted 
gave  the  information  that  they  were  furnished  the  Bos- 
tonian  by  the  chief  manager  of  your  Company — Baran- 
hov — whose  reputation  we  know  well  enough ! — for  the 
deliberate  purpose  of  raiding  our  coast. ' ' 

Rezanov  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  replied  indif- 
ferently :  "I  will  ask  Baranhov  when  I  return  to  Sitka, 
and  write  you  the  particulars.  It  is  more  likely  that  the 
Aleutians  were  deserters.  This  O'Cain  would  not  be 
the  first  shrewd  Bostonian  to  tempt  them,  for  they  are 
admirable  hunters  and  ready  for  any  change.  They 
make  a  greater  demand  upon  the  Company  for  variety 
of  diet  than  we  are  always  prepared  to  meet,  so  many 


REZANOV  99 

are  the  difficulties  of  transportation  across  Siberia. 
When,  therefore,  the  time  arrived  that  I  could  continue 
my  voyage,  I  determined  to  come  here  and  see  if  some 
arrangement  could  not  be  made  for  a  bi-yearly  exchange 
of  commodities.  We  need  farinaceous  stuffs  of  every 
sort.  I  will  not  pay  so  poor  a  compliment  to  your 
knowledge  of  the  northern  settlements  as  to  enlarge  upon 
the  advantages  California  would  reap  from  such  a 
treaty/' 

The  Governor,  who  had  permitted  himself  to  touch  the 
back  of  his  chair  after  the  dispersal  of  the  war  cloud, 
stiffened  again.  "Ah!"  he  said.  "Ah!"  He  looked 
significantly  at  the  Commandante,  who  nodded.  "You 
come  on  a  semi-official  mission,  after  all,  then?" 

"  It  is  entirely  my  own  idea, ' '  said  Rezanov  carelessly. 
"The  young  Tsar  is  too  much  occupied  with  Bonaparte 
to  give  more  than  a  passing  thought  to  his  colonies. 
But  I  have  a  free  hand.  Can  I  arrange  the  preliminaries 
of  a  treaty,  I  have  only  to  return  to  St.  Petersburg  to 
receive  his  signature  and  highest  approval.  It  would 
be  a  great  feather  in  my  cap,  I  can  assure  your  excel- 
lencies," he  added,  with  a  quick  human  glance  and  a 
sudden  curve  of  his  somewhat  cynical  mouth. 

"  Urn ! "  said  the  Governor.    "  Urn ! " 

But  Argiiello's  stern  face  had  further  relaxed.  After 
all,  he  was  but  eleven  years  older  than  the  Eussian,  and, 
although  early  struggles  and  heavy  responsibilities  and 
many  disappointments  had  deprived  life  of  much  of  its 
early  savor,  what  was  left  of  youth  in  him  responded 
to  the  ambition  he  divined  in  this  interesting  stranger. 
Moreover,  the  idea  of  a  friendly  bond  with  another  race 
on  the  lonely  coast  of  the  Pacific  appealed  to  him  irre- 
sistibly. He  turned  eagerly  to  the  Governor. 

"It  is  a  fine  idea,  Excellency.  We  need  much  that 
they  have,  and  it  pleases  me  to  think  we  should  be  able 
to  supply  the  wants  of  others.  Fancy  anyone  wanting 
aught  of  California,  except  hides,  to  be  sure.  I  did  not 
think  our  existence  was  known  save  to  an  occasional 
British  or  Boston  skipper.  It  is  true  we  are  here  only 


100    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

to  Christianize  savages,  but  even  they  have  need  of 
much  that  cannot  be  manufactured  in  this  God-forsaken 
land.  And  we  ourselves  could  be  more  comfortable — 
God  in  heaven,  yes!  It  is  well  to  think  it  over,  Excel- 
lency. Who  knows? — we  might  have  a  trip  to  the 
north  once  in  a  while.  Life  is  more  excellent  with  some- 
thing to  look  forward  to." 

"You  should  have  a  royal  welcome.  Baranhov  is  the 
most  hospitable  man  in  Russia,  and  I  might  have  the 
happiness  to  be  there  myself.  I  see,  by  the  way,  that 
you  have  not  engaged  in  shipbuilding.  I  need  not  say 
that  we  should  supply  the  ships  of  commerce,  with  no 
diminution  of  your  profits.  We  build  at  Okhotsk,  Petro- 
paulovski,  Kadiak,  and  Sitka.  Moreover,  as  the  Bos- 
tonians  visit  us  frequently,  and  as  your  laws  prohibit 
you  from  trading  with  them,  we  would  see  that  you  al- 
ways got  such  of  their  commodities  as  you  needed.  They 
come  to  us  for  furs,  and  generally  bring  much  for  which 
we  have  no  use.  Captain  D  'Wolf,  from  whom  I  bought 
the  Juno,  had  a  cargo  I  was  forced  to  take  over.  I  un- 
loaded what  was  needed  at  Sitka,  but  as  there  was  no 
boat  going  for  some  months  to  the  other  islands,  I 
brought  the  rest  with  me,  and  you  are  welcome  to  it,  if 
in  exchange  you  will  ballast  the  Juno  with  samples  of 
your  agricultural  products ;  while  the  treaty  is  pending, 
I  can  experiment  in  our  colonies  and  make  sure  which 
are  the  most  adaptable  to  the  market." 

' '  Urn ! "  said  the  Governor.    "  Urn ! ' ' 

Rezanov  did  not  remove  his  cool  direct  gaze  from 
the  snapping  eyes  opposite. 

"I  have  not  the  least  objection  to  making  a  trade  that 
would  fill  my  promuschleniki  with  joy ;  but  that  was  by 
no  means  the  first  object  of  my  voyage ;  which  was  partly 
inspired  by  a  desire  to  see  as  much  of  this  globe  as  a 
man  may  in  one  short  life,  partly  to  arrange  a  treaty 
that  would  be  of  incalculable  benefit  to  both  colonies  and 
greatly  redound  to  my  own  glory.  I  make  no  pretence 
of  being  disinterested.  I  look  forward  to  a  career  of 


REZANOV  101 

ever  increasing  influence  and  power  in  St.  Petersburg, 
and  I  wish  to  take  back  as  many  credits  as  possible." 

"I  understand,  I  understand!"  The  Governor  rested 
his  lame  back  once  more.  "Your  ambition  is  the  more 
laudable,  Excellency,  since  you  have  achieved  so  much 
already.  I  am  not  one  to  balk  the  honest  ambition  of 
any  man,  particularly  when  he  does  me  the  honor  to 
take  me  into  his  confidence.  I  like  this  suggested  meas- 
ure. I  like  it  much.  I  believe  it  would  redound  to  our 
mutual  benefit  and  reputation.  Is  it  not  so,  Jose?" 

The  Commandante  nodded  vigorously.  ' '  I  am  sure  of 
it!  I  am  sure  of  it!  I  like  it — much,  much." 

"I  will  write  at  once  to  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico  and 
ask  that  he  lay  the  matter  before  the  Cabinet  and  King. 
Without  that  high  authority  we  can  do  nothing.  But  I 
see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  issue  when  we,  who  know 
the  wants  and  needs  of  California,  approve  and  desire. 
We  are  doomed  to  failure  in  this  unwieldy  land  of 
worthless  savages,  but  it  is  the  business  of  the  wretched 
servants  of  a  glorious  monarch  to  do  the  best  they  can. ' ' 

Rezanov  had  an  inspiration.  "You  might  remind  the 
viceroy  that  Spain  and  the  United  States  of  America 
have  been  on  the  verge  of  war  for  years,  and  suggest 
the  benefit  of  an  alliance  with  Russia  in  the  case  of  the 
new  country  taking  advantage  of  the  situation  in  Eu- 
rope to  extend  its  western  boundaries ' 

Arrillaga  had  bounced  to  his  feet,  his  small  eyes  in- 
jected and  blazing.  "Those  damned  Bostonians!"  he 
shouted.  "I  distrusted  them  years  ago.  They  have  too 
much  calculation  in  their  bluntness.  They  cheated  us, 
sold  us  short,  traded  under  my  very  nose,  stole  our 
otters,  until  I  ordered  them  never  to  drop  an  anchor  in 
California  waters  again.  If  their  ridiculous  upstart 
government  dares  to  cast  its  eyes  on  California  we  shall 
know  how  to  meet  them — the  sooner  they  march  on  Mex- 
ico and  lose  their  conceit  the  better.  How  they  do 
brag!  Faugh!  It  is  sickening.  I  shall  remember  all 
you  say,  Excellency,  and  thank  you  for  the  hint." 

Rezanov  rose,  and  the  Commandante  solemnly  kissed 


102    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

him  on  either  cheek.  "Governor  Arrillaga  is  my  guest, 
Excellency, ' '  he  said.  ' '  I  beg  that  you  will  dine  with  us 
daily — unofficially — that  you  will  regard  California  as 
your  own  kingdom,  and  come  and  go  at  your  pleasure. 
And  my  daughter  begs  me  to  remind  you  and  your 
young  officers  that  there  will  be  informal  dancing  every 
night." 

"So  far  so  good,"  thought  Rezanov,  as  he  mounted 
his  horse  to  return  to  the  Juno.  "But  what  of  my 
cargo?  I  fancy  there  will  be  more  difficulty  in  that 
quarter." 


XV 

THE  Chamberlain  was  in  a  towering  bad  humor.  As  he 
made  his  appearance  at  least  two  hours  earlier  than  he 
was  expected,  he  found  the  decks  of  the  Juno  covered 
with  the  skins  of  sea-dogs,  foxes,  and  birds.  He  had 
heard  Langsdorff  go  to  his  cabin  later  than  usual  the 
night  before,  and  that  his  pet  aversion  was  the  cause  of 
a  fresh  grievance,  but  hastened  the  eruption  of  his 
smouldering  resentment  toward  life  in  general. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  roared  to  the  sailor  on 
watch.  ' '  Clear  them  off — overboard,  every  one  of  them. 
What  are  you  staring  at  ? ' ' 

The  sailor,  who  was  a  1 1  Bostonian, ' '  an  inheritance 
with  the  ship,  opened  his  mouth  in  favor  of  the  unfor- 
tunate professor,  but  like  his  mates,  he  stood  in  much 
awe  of  a  master  whose  indulgence  demanded  implicit 
obedience  in  return.  Without  further  ado,  he  flung  the 
skins  into  the  sea. 

Rezanov,  to  do  him  justice,  would  not  have  acted  other- 
wise had  he  risen  in  the  best  of  tempers.  He  had  in- 
flicted himself  with  the  society  of  the  learned  doctor  that 
he  might  always  have  a  physician  and  surgeon  at  hand, 
as  well  as  an  interpreter  where  Latin  was  the  one  door 
of  communication.  He  should  pay  him  handsomely, 
make  him  a  present  in  addition  to  the  sum  agreed  upon, 
but  he  had  not  the  least  intention  of  giving  up  any  of 
the  Juno's  precious  space  to  the  vagaries  of  a  scientist, 
nor  to  submit  to  the  pollution  of  her  atmosphere.  Langs- 
dorff  was  his  creature,  and  the  sooner  he  realized  the 
fact  the  better. 

" Remember,"  he  said  to  the  sailor,  "no  more  of  this, 

or  it  will  be  the  worse  for  you What  is  this  ? ' '  He 

had  come  upon  a  pile  of  ducks,  gulls,  pelicans,  and  other 

103 


104    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

aquatic  birds.    Are  these  the  cook's  or  the  professor's?" 

"The  professor's,  Excellency.7' 

"Overboard."    And  the  birds  followed  the  skins. 

Rezanov  turned  to  confront  the  white  and  trembling 
Langsdorff.  The  naturalist  was  enfolded  in  a  gorgeous 
Japanese  dressing-gown,  purple  brocade  embroidered 
with  gold,  that  he  had  surreptitiously  bought  in  the 
harbor  of  Nagasaki.  To  Rezanov  it  was  like  a  red  rag 
to  a  bull ;  but  the  professor  was  oblivious  at  the  moment 
of  the  tactless  garment.  His  eyes  were  glaring  and  the 
extended  tip  of  his  nose  worked  like  a  knife  trying  to 
leap  from  its  sheath.  But  although  he  occasionally  ven- 
tured upon  a  retort  when  goaded  too  far  in  conversa- 
tion, he  was  able  to  curb  his  just  indignation  when  the 
Chamberlain  was  in  a  bad  temper.  In  that  vague  gray 
under  winking  stars  in  their  last  watch,  Rezanov  seemed 
to  tower  six  feet  above  him. 

"Excellency,"  he  murmured. 

"Well?" 

"My — my  specimens." 

"Your  what?" 

"The  cause  of  science  is  very  dear  to  me,  Excellency." 

"So  it  is  to  me — in  its  proper  place.  Were  those 
skins  yours?"  His  voice  became  very  suave.  "I  am 
sorry  you  should  have  fatigued  yourself  for  nothing, 
but  I  am  forced  to  remind  you  that  this  is  not  an  expedi- 
tion undertaken  for  the  promotion  of  natural  history. 
I  am  not  violating  my  part  in  the  contract,  I  believe. 
Upon  our  arrival  at  Sitka  you  are  at  liberty  to  remain 
as  my  guest  and  make  use  of  the  first  boat  that  sails 
for  this  colony ;  but  for  the  present  I  beg  that  you  will 
limit  yourself  to  the  requirements  of  your  position  on 
my  staff." 

He  turned  his  back  and  ordered  a  canoe  to  be  low- 
ered. Since  the  arrival  of  the  Governor  and  Comman- 
dante,  now  three  days  ago,  all  restrictions  on  his  liberty 
had  been  removed,  and  the  phrases  of  hospitality  were  a 
trifle  less  meaningless.  He  had  been  asked  to  give  his 
word  to  keep  away  from  the  fortifications,  and  as  he 


REZANOV  105 

knew  quite  as  much  of  the  military  resources  of  the 
country  as  he  desired,  he  had  merely  suppressed  a  smile 
and  given  his  promise. 

This  morning  he  wanted  nothing  but  a  walk.  He  had 
slept  badly,  the  blood  was  in  his  head,  his  nerves  were 
op.  edge.  He  went  rapidly  along  the  beach  and  over 
the  steep  hills  that  led  to  the  northeastern  point  of  the 
peninsula.  But  he  had  taken  the  walk  before  and  did 
not  turn  his  head  to  look  at  the  great  natural  amphithe- 
ater formed  by  the  inner  slopes  of  those  barren  heights, 
so  uninteresting  of  outline  from  the  water.  Once  when 
Luis  had  left  him  to  go  down  with  an  order  to  the  Bat- 
tery of  Yerba  Buena,  he  had  examined  it  critically  and 
concluded  that  never  had  there  been  so  fine  a  site  for  a 
great  city.  Nor  a  more  beautiful,  with  the  broken  line 
of  the  San  Bruno  mountains  in  the  distance  and  a 
glimpse  of  the  Mission  valley  just  beyond  this  vast  col- 
osseum,  whose  steep  imposing  lines  were  destined  by  na- 
ture to  be  set  with  palaces  and  bazaars,  minarets  and 
towers  and  churches,  with  a  thousand  gilded  domes  and 
slender  crosses  glittering  in  the  crystal  air  and  sun- 
flood.  If  not  another  Moscow,  then  an  Irkutsk  in  his 
day,  at  least. 

But  he  did  not  give  the  chosen  site  of  his  city  a  glance 
to-day,  although  in  this  gray  air  before  dawn  when 
mystery  and  imagination  most  closely  embrace,  he  might 
at  another  time  have  forgotten  himself  in  one  of  those 
fits  of  dreaming  that  slipped  him  out  of  touch  with 
realities,  and  sometimes  precipitated  action  in  a  manner 
highly  gratifying  to  his  enemies. 

But  much  as  he  loved  Russia,  there  were  times  when 
he  loved  his  own  way  more,  and  since  the  arrival  of 
Governor  Arrillaga  he  was  beginning  to  feel  as  he  had 
felt  in  the  harbor  of  Nagasaki.  Not  a  word  since  that 
first  interview  had  been  said  of  his  cargo;  nor  even  of 
the  treaty,  although  nothing  could  have  been  more  nat- 
ural than  the  discussion  of  details.  Whenever  he  had 
delicately  broached  either  subject,  he  had  been  met  with 
a  polite  indifference,  that  had  little  in  common  with  the 


106    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

cordiality  otherwise  shown  him.  He  foresaw  that  he 
might  be  obliged  to  reveal  the  more  pressing  object  of 
his  visit  without  further  diplomacy,  and  the  thought  irri- 
tated him  beyond  endurance. 

Whether  Concha  were  giving  him  her  promised  aid 
he  had  no  means  of  discovering,  and  herein  lay  another 
cause  of  his  general  vexation.  He  had  dined  every  day 
at  the  Commandante 's,  danced  there  every  night.  Con- 
cha had  been  vivacious,  friendly — impersonal.  Not  so 
much  as  a  coquettish  lift  of  the  brow  betrayed  that  the 
distinguished  stranger  eclipsed  the  caballeros  for  the 
moment;  nor  a  whispered  word  that  he  retained  the 
friendship  she  had  offered  him  on  the  day  of  their  meet- 
ing. He  had  not,  indeed,  had  a  word  with  her  alone. 
But  his  interest  and  admiration  had  deepened.  It  was 
evident  that  her  father  and  the  Governor  adored  her, 
would  deny  her  little.  Her  attitude  to  them  was  alter- 
nately that  of  the  petted  child  and  the  chosen  compan- 
ion. As  her  mother  was  indisposed,  she  occupied  her 
place  at  the  table,  presiding  with  dignity,  guiding  the 
conversation,  revealing  the  rare  gift  of  making  everyone 
appear  at  his  best.  In  the  evening  she  had  sometimes 
danced  alone  for  a  few  moments,  but  more  often  with  her 
Russian  guests,  and  readily  learning  the  English  coun- 
try dances  they  were  anxious  to  teach.  Rezanov  would 
have  found  the  gay  informality  of  these  evenings  delight- 
ful had  his  mind  been  at  ease  about  his  Sitkans,  and 
Concha  a  trifle  more  personal.  He  had  begun  by  sus- 
pecting that  she  was  maneuvering  for  his  scalp,  but  he 
was  forced  to  acquit  her;  for  not  only  did  she  show  no 
provocative  favor  to  another,  but  she  seemed  to  have 
gained  in  dignity  and  pride  since  his  arrival,  actually 
to  have  kissed  her  hand  in  farewell  to  the  childhood  he 
had  been  so  slow  in  divining ;  grown — he  felt  rather  than 
analyzed — above  the  pettiness  of  coquetry.  Once  more 
she  had  stirred  the  dormant  ideals  of  his  early  man- 
hood; there  were  moments  when  she  floated  before  his 
inner  vision  as  the  embodiment  of  the  world's  beauty. 
Nor  ever  had  there  been  a  woman  born  more  elaborately 


REZANOV  107 

equipped  for  the  position  of  a  public  man 's  mate ;  nor 
more  ingenerate,  perhaps,  with  the  power  to  turn  earth 
into  heaven. 

He  had  wondered  humorously  if  he  were  fallen  in 
love,  but,  although  he  retained  little  faith  in  the  activi- 
ties of  the  heart  after  youth,  he  was  beginning  seri- 
ously to  consider  the  expedience  of  marrying  Concha 
Argiiello.  He  had  not  intended  to  marry  again,  and  it 
was  this  old  and  passionate  love  of  personal  freedom  that 
alone  held  him  back,  for  nothing  would  be  so  advan- 
tageous to  the  Russian  colonies  in  their  present  crisis  as 
a  strong  individual  alliance  with  California.  Concha 
Argiiello  was  the  famous  daughter  of  its  first  subject, 
and  with  the  powerful  friends  she  would  bring  to  her 
husband,  the  consummation  of  ends  dearer  to  his  heart 
than  aught  on  earth  would  be  a  matter  of  months  instead 
of  years.  And  he  thrilled  with  pride  as  he  thought  of 
Concha  in  St.  Petersburg.  Two  years  of  court  life  and 
she  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  ladies  in  Europe.  That 
he  could  win  her  he  believed,  and  without  undue  vanity. 
He  had  much  to  offer  an  ambitious  clever  girl  conscious 
of  her  superiority  to  the  men  of  this  province  of  Spain, 
and  chafing  at  the  prospect  of  a  lifetime  in  a  bountiful 
desert.  His  only  hesitation  lay  in  his  own  doubt  if  she 
were  worth  the  loss  of  his  freedom,  and  all  that  word 
involved  to  a  man  of  his  position  and  adventurous  spirit. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  at  this  argument;  he  had 
walked  off  some  of  his  ill-humor,  and  reverted  willingly 
to  a  theme  that  alone  had  given  him  satisfaction  during 
the  past  few  days.  At  the  same  time  he  made  a  motion 
as  if  flinging  aside  an  old  burden. 

"It  is  time  for  such  nonsense  to  end,"  he  thought 
contemptuously.  "And  in  truth  these  three  years  have 
wrought  such  changes  in  me  I  doubt  I  should  have  pa- 
tience for  an  hour  of  the  old  trifling.  My  greatest  need 
from  this  time  on,  I  fancy,  is  work.  I  could  never  be 
idle  a  month  again.  And  when  a  man  is  in  love  with 
work — and  power — and  has  passed  forty — does  he  want 
a  constant  companion?  That  is  the  point.  At  my  time 


108    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

of  life  power  exercises  the  most  irresistible  and  lasting 
of  all  fascinations.  A  man  that  wins  it  has  little  left 
for  a  woman." 

He  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  rocky  outpost,  the 
highest  of  the  hills  where  the  peninsula  turned  abruptly 
to  the  south,  and,  scrupulously  refraining  from  a  down- 
ward glance  at  the  Battery  of  Yerba  Buena,  stood  look- 
ing out  over  the  bay  to  the  eastern  mountains:  dark, 
almost  formless,  wrapped  in  the  intense  and  menacing 
mystery  of  that  last  hour  before  dawn. 

' '  Senor ! ' '  called  a  low  cautious  voice. 

Rezanov  stepped  hastily  back  from  the  point  of  the 
bluff  and  glanced  about  in  wonder,  his  pulses  suddenly 
astir.  But  he  could  see  no  one. 

"  Senor !" 

This  time  the  direction  was  unmistakable,  and  he  went 
to  the  edge  of  the  plateau  facing  the  south  and  looked 
over.  Halfway  down  a  shallow  and  almost  perpendicu- 
lar gully,  he  saw  a  girl  forcing  a  mustang  up  the  harsh 
loose  path.  The  girl's  white  and  oval  face  looked  from 
the  folds  of  a  black  reboso  like  the  moon  emerging  from 
clouds,  and  its  young  beauty  was  out  of  place  in  that 
wild  and  forbidding  setting.  She  reined  in  her  horse 
as  she  caught  his  eye  and  beckoned  superfluously;  then 
guided  her  mustang  to  a  little  ledge  where  he  could  plant 
his  feet  firmly,  permitting  her  to  reassume  her  usual 
pride  of  carriage  and  averting  the  danger  of  a  sudden 
scramble  or  need  of  assistance. 

As  Rezanov  reached  her  side,  she  gave  him  a  grave 
and  friendly  smile,  but  no  opportunity  to  kiss  her  hand. 

"I  have  followed  your  excellency,"  she  said.  "I  saw 
you  leave  the  Juno,  and  as  I  am  often  up  at  this  hour, 
and  as  no  one  else  ever  is,  my  father  ignores  the  fact 
that  I  sometimes  ride  alone.  I  have  never  come  as  far 
as  this  before,  but  there  is  something  I  wish  to  say  to 
you,  and  there  is  no  opportunity  at  home.  I  asked  San- 
tiago to  find  me  one  last  night,  but  he  was  in  a  bad 
temper  and  would  not.  Men!  However — I  suppose 
you  have  heard  nothing  of  the  cargo?" 


REZANOV  109 

"I  have  not,"  said  Kezanov  grimly,  although  acutely 
sensible  that  the  subject  suited  neither  his  mood  nor 
the  hour. 

"But  the  Governor  has!  Madre  de  Dios!  all  the 
women  of  the  Presidio  and  the  Mission  have  pestered 
him.  They  are  sick  with  jealousy  at  the  shawls  you 
gave  us  that  day — those  that  did  not  go  to  the  ship. 
How  clever  of  your  excellency  to  give  us  just  enough 
for  ourselves  and  nothing  for  our  friends!  And  those 
that  went  want  more  and  more.  They  have  called  upon 
him — one,  two,  four,  and  alone.  They  have  wept  and 
Scolded  and  pleaded.  I  did  not  know  until  yesterday 
that  your  commissary  had  also  shown  the  things  to  the 
priests  from  San  Jose — Father  Jose  Uria  and  Father 
Pedro  de  la  Cueva.  They  and  the  priests  of  San  Fran- 
cisco have  argued  with  the  Governor  not  once  but  three 
times.  Dios!  how  his  poor  excellency  swore  yesterday. 
He  threatened  to  return  at  once  to  Monterey.  I  flew  into 
a  great  rage  and  threatened  in  turn  to  follow  with  all 
the  other  girls  and  all  the  priests — vowed  he  should  not 
have  one  moment  of  peace  until  that  cargo  was  ours. ' ' 

*  *  Well  ? ' '  asked  Rezanov  sharply,  in  spite  of  his  amuse- 
ment. 

Concha  shook  her  head.  "When  he  does  not  swear,  he 
answers  only:  'Buy  if  you  have  the  money.  I  have 
never  broken  a  law  of  Spain,  and  I  shall  not  begin  in 
my  old  age. '  He  knows  well  that  we  have  no  money  to 
send  out  of  New  Spain;  but  I  have  conceived  a  plan, 
seiior.  It  is  for  you,  not  for  me,  to  suggest  it.  You  will 
never  betray  that  I  have  been  your  friend,  Excellency?'' 

"I  will  swear  it  if  you  wish,"  said  Rezanov  frigidly. 

"Pardon,  senor.  If  I  thought  you  could  I  should  not 
be  here.  One  often  says  such  things.  This  is  the  plan : 
You  shall  suggest  that  we  buy  your  wares,  and  that  you 
buy  again  with  our  money.  The  dear  Governor  only 
wants  to  save  his  conscience  an  ache,  for  we  have  driven 
him  nearly  distracted.  I  am  sure  he  will  consent,  for 
you  will  know  how  to  put  it  to  him  very  diplomati- 
cally." 


110    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"But  if  he  refused  to  understand,  or  his  conscience 
remained  obdurate?  I  should  then  have  neither  cargo 
nor  ballast. ' ' 

"He  would  never  trick  a  guest,  nor  would  he  let  the 
money  go  out  of  the  country.  And  he  knows  well  how 
much  we  need  your  cargo  and  longs  to  be  able  to  state 
in  his  reports  that  he  sold  you  a  hold  full  of  breadstuffs. 
Moreover,  I  think  the  time  has  come  to  tell  him  of  the 
distress  at  Sitka.  He  is  very  soft-hearted  and  is  now 
in  that  distracted  state  of  mind  when  only  one  more 
argument  is  required.  I  hope  I  have  given  you  good 
advice,  Excellency.  It  is  the  best  I  can  think  of.  I 
have  given  it  much  thought,  and  the  terrible  state  of 
those  miserable  creatures  has  kept  me  awake  many 
nights.  I  must  return  now.  Will  your  excellency  kind- 
ly remain  here  until  I  am  well  on  my  way  ? — and  then 
return  by  the  beach  ?  I  shall  go  as  I  came,  through  the 
valley.  Neither  of  us  can  be  seen  from  the  Battery. ' ' 

"I  will  obey  all  your  instructions,"  said  Rezanov. 
But  he  did  not  move,  nor  could  the  mustang.  Concha 
smiled  and  pointed  to  the  other  side  of  the  cleft,  which 
was  about  as  wide  as  a  narrow  street. 

' '  Pardon,  senor,  I  cannot  turn. ' ' 

For  a  moment  Bezanov  stared  at  her,  through  her. 
Then  his  heavy  eyes  opened  and  flashed.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  for  the  first  time  he  saw  how  beautiful,  how 
desirable  she  was,  set  in  that  gray  volcanic  rock  with  the 
heavens  gray  above  her,  and  the  stars  fading  out.  It 
was  not  the  bower  he  would  have  imagined  for  the  woo- 
ing of  a  mate,  but  neither  moonlight  nor  the  romantic 
glades  of  La  Bellissima  could  have  awakened  in  him  a 
passion  so  sudden  and  final.  Her  face  between  the  black 
folds  turned  whiter  and  she  shrank  back  against  the 
jagged  wall;  and  when  his  eyes  flashed  again  with  a 
wild  eager  hope  she  involuntarily  crossed  herself.  He 
threw  himself  against  the  horse  and  snatched  her  down 
and  kissed  her  as  he  had  kissed  no  woman  yet,  recog- 
nizing her  once  for  all. 


REZANOV  111 

When  he  finally  held  her  at  arm's  length  for  a  mo- 
ment he  laughed  confusedly. 

"The  Russian  bear  is  no  longer  a  figure  of  speech," 
he  said.  '  *  Forgive  me.  I  forgot  that  you  are  as  tender 
as  you  are  strong." 

Her  hands  were  tightly  clasped  against  her  breast, 
and  the  breath  was  short  in  her  throat,  but  she  made  no 
protest.  Her  eyes  were  radiant,  her  mouth  was  the  only 
color  in  that  gray  dawn.  In  a  moment  she  too  laughed. 

' '  Dios  de  mi  alma !  What  will  they  say  ?  A  heretic ! 
If  Tamalpais  fell  into  the  sea  it  would  not  make  so 
great  a  sensation  in  this  California  of  ours  where  civi- 
lized man  exists  but  to  drive  heathen  souls  into  the  one 
true  church." 

' '  Will  it  matter  to  you  ?  Are  you  strong  enough  ?  It 
will  be  only  a  question  of  time  to  win  them  over,  if  you 
are." 

She  nodded  emphatically.  "I  was  born  with  strength. 
Now — Dios! — now  I  can  be  stronger  than  the  King  of 
Spain  himself,  than  the  Governor,  my  parents  and  all 

the  priests You  would  not  become  a  Catholic  ? ' '  she 

asked  abruptly. 

He  shook  his  head,  although  he  still  smiled  at  her. 
' c  Not  even  for  you. ' ' 

"No,"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "I  will  confess — what 
matters  it  ? — I  often  dreamed  that  this  would  come  just 
because  I  believed  it  would  not.  But  why  should  one 
control  the  imagination  when  it  alone  can  give  us  happi- 
ness for  a  little  while  ?  I  gave  it  rein,  for  I  thought  that 
one-half  of  all  my  life  was  to  be  passed  in  that  unreal 
but  by  no  means  niggardly  world.  And  I  thought  of 
everything.  To  change  your  religion  would  mean  the 
ruin  of  your  career;  moreover,  it  is  not  a  possibility  of 
your  character.  Were  it  I  think  I  should  not  love  you  so 
much.  Nor  could  I  bear  to  think  of  any  change  in  you. 
Only  it  will  be  harder — longer."  Then  she  stretched 
out  her  hand,  and  closed  and  opened  it  slowly.  The  most 
obtuse  could  not  have  failed  to  read  the  old  simile  of 


112    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  steel  in  the  velvet.  "I  shall  win  because  it  is  my 
nature — and  my  power — to  hold  what  I  grasp. " 

''But  if  they  persistently  refuse " 

"Dios!"  she  interrupted  him.  "Do  you  think  that 
your  love  is  greater  than  mine?  I  was  born  with  a 
thousand  years  of  love  in  me  and  had  you  not  come  I 
should  have  gone  alone  with  my  dreams  to  the  grave.  I 
am  all  women  in  one,  not  merely  Concha  Argiiello,  a 
girl  of  sixteen. ' '  She  clasped  her  hands  high  above  her 
head,  lifting  her  eyes  to  the  ashen  vault  so  soon  to  yield 
to  the  gay  brush  of  dawn. 

"Before  all  that  great  mystery/'  she  said  solemnly, 
"I  give  myself  to  you  for  ever,  how  much  or  how  little 
that  may  mean  here  on  earth.  For  ever. ' ' 


XVI 

THE  Commandante  of  the  San  Francisco  Company  sat 
opposite  Rezanov  with  his  mouth  open,  the  lines  of  his 
strong  face  elongated  and  relaxed.  It  was  the  hour  of 
siesta,  and  they  were  alone  in  the  sala. 

"Mother  of  God!"  he  exclaimed.  "Mother  of  God! 
Are  you  mad,  Excellency?" 

"No  man  was  ever  saner,"  said  Rezanov  cheerfully. 
"What  better  proof  would  you  have  than  this  final  tes- 
timony to  Dona  Concha 's  perfections  ? ' ' 

"But  it  cannot  be!  Surely,  Excellency,  you.  realize 
that  ?  The  priests !  Ay  yi !  Ay  yi ! " 

"I  think  I  understand  the  priests.  Persuade  the 
Governor  to  buy  my  cargo  and  they  will  look  upon  me 
as  an  amicus  humani  generis  to  whom  common  rules  do 
not  apply.  And  I  have  won  their  sincere  friendship. ' ' 

"You  have  won  mine,  seiior.  But,  though  I  say  it, 
there  is  no  more  devout  Catholic  in  the  Californias  than 
Jose  Argiiello.  Do  you  know  what  they  call  me?  El 
santo.  God  knows  I  am  not,  but  it  is  not  for  want  of 
the  wish.  Did  I  give  my  daughter  to  a  heretic,  not  only 
should  I  become  an  outcast,  a  pariah,  but  I  should  im- 
peril my  everlasting  soul  and  that  of  my  best  beloved 
child.  It  is  impossible,  Excellency — unless,  indeed,  you 
embrace  our  faith." 

"That  is  so  impossible  that  the  subject  is  not  worth 
the  waste  of  a  moment.  But  surely,  Commandante,  in 
your  excitement  at  this  perfectly  natural  issue  you  are 
misrepresenting  yourself.  I  do  not  believe,  devout  Cath- 
olic as  you  are,  that  your  soul  is  steeped  in  fanaticism. 
You  are  known  far  and  wide  as  the  first  and  most  intel- 
ligent of  his  Catholic  Majesty's  subjects  in  New  Spain. 

113 


114    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"When  you  have  my  word  of  honor  that  your  daughter's 
faith  shall  never  be  disturbed,  it  is  impossible  you  should 
believe  that  marriage  with  me  would  ruin  her  chances 
of  happiness  in  the  next  world.  But  I  doubt  if  your 
soul  and  conscience  will  have  the  peace  you  desire  if 
you  ruin  her  happiness  in  this.  What  pleasure  do  you 
find  in  the  thought  of  an  old  age  companioned  by  a 
heart-broken  daughter  ? ' ' 

Don  Jose  turned  pale  and  hitched  his  chair.  "Other 
maids  have  been  balked  when  young,  and  have  forgot- 
ten. Concha  is  but  sixteen " 

"She  is  also  unique.  She  will  marry  me  or  no  one. 
Of  that  I  am  as  certain  as  that  she  is  the  woman  of 
women  for  me." 

"How  can  you  be  so  certain ?"  asked  the  Comman- 
dante  sharply.  "Surely  you  have  had  little  talk  alone 
with  her?" 

"The  heart  has  a  language  of  its  own.  Eecall  your 
own  youth,  senor." 

"It  is  true,"  said  Don  Jose,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  as  he 
had  a  fleeting  vision  of  Dona  Ignacia,  slim  and  lovely, 
at  the  grating,  with  a  rose  in  her  hair.  "But  this  tre- 
mendous passion  of  the  heart — it  passes,  senor,  it  passes. 
We  love  the  good  wife,  but  we  sometimes  realize  that  we 
could  have  loved  another  good  wife  as  well. ' ' 

"That  is  a  bit  of  philosophy  I  should  have  uttered 
myself,  Commandante — yesterday.  But  there  are  wom- 
en and  women,  and  your  daughter  is  one  of  the  chosen 
few  who  take  from  the  years  what  the  years  take  from 
others.  I  am  not  rushing  into  matrimony  for  the  sake 
of  a  pair  of  black  eyes  and  a  fine  figure.  I  have  out- 
lived the  possibility  of  making  a  fool  of  myself  if  I 
would.  Before  I  realized  how  deeply  I  loved  your 
daughter  I  had  deliberately  chosen  her  out  of  all  the 
women  I  have  known,  as  my  friend  and  companion  for 
the  various  and  difficult  ways  of  life  which  I  shall  be 
called  upon  to  follow.  Your  daughter  will  have  a  high 
place  at  the  Russian  Court,  and  she  will  occupy  it  as 
naturally  as  if  I  had  found  her  in  Madrid  and  you  in 


REZANOV  115 

the  great  position  to  which  your  attainments  and  serv- 
ices entitle  you." 

Don  Jose,  despite  his  consternation,  titillated  agree- 
ably. He  privately  thought  no  one  in  New  Spain  good 
enough  for  his  daughter,  and  his  weather-beaten  self 
was  not  yet  insensible  to  the  rare  visitation  of  winged 
darts  tipped  with  honey.  But  the  situation  was  one  of 
the  most  embarrassing  he  had  ever  been  called  upon  to 
face,  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  his  direct  and 
honest  life  his  resolution  was  shaken  in  a  crisis. 

"Believe  me,  your  excellency,  I  appreciate  the  honor 
you  have  done  my  house,  and  I  will  add  with  all  my  heart 
that  never  have  I  liked  any  man  more.  But — Mother 
of  God!  Mother  of  God!" 

Rezanov  took  out  his  cigarette  case,  a  superb  bit  of 
Russian  enamel,  graven  with  the  Imperial  arms,  and  a 
parting  gift  from  Alexander.  He  passed  it  to  his  host, 
who  had  developed  a  preference  for  Russian  cigarettes. 

1 '  There  are  other  things  to  consider  besides  the  happi- 
ness of  your  daughter  and  myself, ' '  he  remarked.  ' '  This 
alliance  would  mean 'the  consolidation  of  Spanish  and 
Russian  interests  on  the  Pacific  coast.  It  would  mean 
the  protection  of  California  in  the  almost  certain  event 
of  'American7  aggression.  And  I  hear  that  a  courier 
brought  word  again  yesterday  that  the  Russian  and 
the  Spanish  fleets  had  sailed  for  these  waters.  I  do  not 
believe  a  word  of  it;  but  should  it  be  true,  I  would 
remind  you  of  two  things:  that  I  have  the  powers  of 
the  Tsar  himself  in  this  part  of  the  world,  and  that  the 
Russian  fleet  is  likely  to  arrive  first." 

Again  the  Commandante  moved  uneasily.  The  news 
from  Mexico  had  kept  himself  and  the  Governor  awake 
the  better  part  of  the  night.  He  fully  appreciated  the 
importance  of  this  powerful  Russian 's  friendship.  Noth- 
ing would  bind  and  commit  him  like  taking  a  Califor- 
nian  to  wife.  If  only  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  Caro- 
lina Ximeno  or  Delfina  Rivera!  Don  Jose  had  an  un- 
easy suspicion  that  his  scruples  as  a  Catholic  might 
have  gone  down  before  his  sense  of  duty  to  this  poor 


116    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

California.  But  a  heretic  in  his  own  family !  He  was 
justly  renowned  for  his  piety.  Aside  from  the  wrath 
of  the  church,  the  mere  thought  of  one  of  his  offspring 
in  matrimonial  community  beyond  its  pale  made  him 
sick  with  repugnance.  And  yet — California!  And  he 
would  have  selected  Rezanov  for  his  daughter  out  of  all 
men  had  he  been  of  their  faith.  And  he  was  deeply 
conscious  of  the  honor  that  had  descended,  however  un- 
f ruitfully,  upon  his  house.  Madre  de  Dios !  How  would 
it  end?  Suddenly  he  felt  himself  inspired.  In  blissful 
ignorance  of  her  subtle  feminine  rule,  he  reminded  him- 
self that  Concha 's  mind  was  the  child  of  his  own.  When 
she  saw  his  embarrassment,  filial  duty  and  woman's  wit 
would  extricate  them  both  with  grace  and  avert  the 
enmity  of  the  Russian  even  though  the  latter 's  more 
personal  interest  in  California  must  die  in  his  disap- 
pointment. He  would  make  her  feel  the  weight  of  the 
stern  paternal  hand,  and  then  indicate  the  part  she  had 
to  play. 

He  rang  a  bell  and  directed  the  servant  to  summon 
his  daughter,  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  set 
his  rugged  face  in  hard  lines.  As  Concha  entered  he 
looked  the  Commandante,  the  stern  disciplinarian,  every 
inch  of  him. 

There  was  no  trace  of  the  siesta  in  Concha's  cheeks. 
They  were  very  white,  but  her  eyes  were  steady  and 
her  mouth  indomitable  as  she  walked  down  the  sala  and 
took  the  chair  Rezanov  placed  for  her.  Except  for  her 
Castilian  fairness,  she  looked  very  like  the  martinet 
sitting  on  the  other  side  of  the  table.  The  Comman- 
dante regarded  her  silently  with  brows  drawn  together. 
Dimly,  he  felt  apprehension,  wondered,  in  a  flash  of 
insight,  if  girls  held  fast  to  the  parental  recipe,  or  re- 
combined  with  tongue  in  cheek.  The  bare  possi- 
bility of  resistance  almost  threw  him  into  panic,  but  he 
controlled  his  features  until  the  effort  injected  his  eyes 
and  drew  in  his  nostrils.  Concha  regarded  him  calmly, 
although  her  heart  beat  unevenly,  for  she  dreaded  the 
long  strain  she  foresaw. 


REZANOV  117 

"My  daughter,"  said  Don  Jose  finally,  his  tones  harsh 
with  repressed  misgiving,  "do  you  suspect  why  I  have 
sent  for  you  ? ' ' 

"I  think  that  his  excellency  wishes  to  marry  me," 
replied  Concha;  and  the  Commandante  was  so  stag- 
gered by  the  calm  assurance  of  her  tone  and  manner  that 
his  pent-up  emotion  exploded. 

"Dios!"  he  roared.  "What  right  have  you  to  know 
when  a  man  wishes  to  marry  you?  What  manner  of 
Spanish  girl  is  this?  Truly  has  his  excellency  said  that 
you  are  not  as  other  women.  The  place  for  you  is  your 
room,  with  bread  and  water  for  a  week.  Sixteen ! ' ' 

"Ignacio  was  born  when  my  mother  was  sixteen," 
said  Concha  coolly. 

' '  What  of  that  ?  She  married  whom  and  when  she  was 
told  to  marry." 

* '  I  have  heard  that  you  serenaded  nightly  beneath  her 
grating " 

"So  did  others." 

' '  I  have  heard  that  when  of  all  her  suitors  her  father 
chose  one  more  highly  born,  a  gentleman  of  the  Vice- 
roy's court,  she  pined  until  they  gave  their  consent  to 
her  marriage  with  you,  lest  she  die." 

"But  I  was  a  Catholic!  The  prejudice  against  my 
birth  was  an  unworthy  one.  I  had  distinguished  myself. 
And  she  had  the  support  of  the  priests. ' ' 

"It  is  my  misfortune  that  M.  de  Rezanov  is  not  a 
Catholic,  but  it  will  make  no  difference.  I  shall  not  fall 
ill,  for  I  am  like  you,  not  like  my  dear  mother — and 
the  education  you  have  given  me  is  very  different  from 
hers.  But  I  shall  marry  his  excellency  or  no  one,  and 
whether  I  marry  him  or  live  alone  with  the  thought  of 
him  until  the  end  of  my  mortal  days,  I  do  not  believe 
that  my  soul  will  be  imperilled  in  the  least. ' ' 

"You  do  not!"  shouted  the  irate  Spaniard.  "How 
dare  you  presume  to  decide  suchva  question  for  your- 
self ?  What  does  a  woman  know  of  love  until  she  mar- 
ries? It  is  nothing  but  a  sickening  of  the  imagination 
before;  and  if  the  man  goes,  the  doctor  soon  comes." 


118    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"You  may  not  have  intended — but  you  have  taught 
me  to  think  for  myself.  And  I  have  seen  others  besides 
M.  de  Rezanov — the  flower  of  California  and  more  than 
one  fine  gentleman  from  Mexico.  I  will  have  none  of 
them.  I  will  marry  the  man  of  my  choice  or  no  one. 
It  may  be  that  I  know  naught  of  love.  If  you  wish, 
you  may  think  that  my  choice  of  a  husband  is  deter- 
mined by  ambition,  that  I  am  dazzled  with  the  thought 
of  court  life  in  St.  Petersburg,  of  being  the  consort  of 
a  great  and  wealthy  noble.  It  matters  not.  Love  or 
ambition,  I  shall  marry  this  Eussian  or  I  shall  never 
marry  at  all." 

' '  Mother  of  God !  Mother  of  God ! ' '  Don  Jose 's  face 
was  purple.  The  veins  swelled  in  his  neck.  He  was 
the  more  wroth  because  he  recognized  his  own  daughter 
and  his  own  handiwork,  because  he  saw  that  he  con- 
fronted a  Toledo  blade,  not  a  woman's  brittle  will. 
Concha  regarded  him  calmly. 

"If  you  refuse  your  consent,  you  will  lose  me  in  an- 
other way.  I  may  not  be  able  to  marry  as  I  wish,  but  I 
will  have  no  worldly  alternative.  I  shall  join  the  Third 
Order  of  the  Franciscans,  and  enter  a  convent  as  soon 
as  one  is  built  in  California.  To  that  you  cannot  with- 
hold your  consent,  or  they  no  longer  would  call  you 
Elsanto." 

Don  Jose  leaped  from  his  chair.  *  *  Go  to  your  room ! ' ' 
he  thundered.  "And  do  not  dare  to  leave  it  without 
my  permission " 

But  Concha  sprang  forward  and  flung  herself  upon 
his  neck.  She  rubbed  her  warm  elastic  cheek  against 
his  own  in  the  manner  he  loved,  and  softened  her  voice. 
* '  Papacito  mio,  papacito  mio, ' '  she  pleaded.  i  l  Thou  wilt 
not  refuse  thy  Concha  the  only  thing  she  has  ever  begged 
of  thee.  And  I  beg!  I  beg!  Papa  mio!  I  love  him! 
I  love  him!"  And  she  broke  into  wild  weeping  and 
kissed  him  frantically,  while  Rezanov,  who  had  followed 
her  plan  of  attack  and  resistance  in  silent  admiration, 
did  not  know  whether  he  should  himself  be  moved  to 
tears  or  further  admire. 


REZANOV  119 

Don  Jose  pushed  her  from  him  with  a  heavy  sob  and 
hastily  left  the  room,  oblivious  in  the  confusion  of  his 
faculties  of  the  boon  he  conferred  on  the  lovers.  Concha 
dried  her  eyes,  but  her  face  was  deathly  pale.  It  had 
not  been  all  acting,  by  any  means,  and  she  was  beginning 
to  feel  the  tyranny  of  sleepless  nights;  and  the  joy  and 
wonder  of  the  morning  had  left  her  with  but  a  remnant 
of  endurance  for  the  domestic  battleground. 

"Go,"  she  whispered,  as  he  took  her  in  his  arms. 
"Return  for  the  dance  to-night  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened   I  forgot,  there  is  to  be  a  bull-bear  fight  in 

the  square.  So  much  the  better,  for  it  is  in  your  honor, 
and  you  could  not  well  remain  away.  There  is  much 
trouble  to  come,  but  in  the  end  we  shall  win." 


XVII 

THE  muscles  in  Dona  Ignacia 's  cheeks  fell  an  inch  as  she 
listened,  dumfounded,  to  the  tale  her  husband  poured 
out.  To  her  simple  aristocratic  soul  Rezanov  had  loomed 
too  great  a  personage  to  dream  of  mating  with  a  Cali- 
fornian ;  and  as  her  sharp  maternal  instinct  had  recog- 
nized his  personal  probity,  even  his  gallantries  had 
seemed  to  her  no  more  consequent  than  the  more  catholic 
trifling  of  his  officers. 

"Holy  Mary!"  she  whimpered,  when  her  voice  came 
back.  "Holy  Mary!  A  heretic!  And  he  would  take 
our  Concha  from  us !  And  she  would  go !  To  St.  Peters- 
burg! Ten  thousand  miles!  To  the  priests  with  her — 
now — this  very  day!" 

Concha  had  thrown  herself  on  her  bed  in  belated  hope 
of  siesta,  when  Malia  (Eosa  had  been  sent  to  the  house 
of  Don  Mario  Sal  in  the  valley)  entered  with  the  mes- 
sage that  she  was  to  accompany  her  parents  to  the  Mis- 
sion at  once.  She  rose  sullenly,  but  in  the  manifold  es- 
sentials of  a  girl's  life  she  had  always  yielded  the  im- 
plicit obedience  exacted  by  the  Californian  parent.  In  a 
few  moments  she  was  riding  out  of  the  Presidio  beside 
her  father.  Dona  Ignacia  jolted  behind  in  her  carreta, 
a  low  and  clumsy  vehicle,  on  solid  wheels  and  springless, 
drawn  by  oxen,  and  driven  by  a  stable-boy  on  a  mus- 
tang. The  journey  was  made  in  complete  silence  save 
for  the  maledictions  addressed  to  the  oxen  by  the  boy, 
and  an  occasional ' ( Ay  yi ! ' '  " Madre  de  Dios I"  " Saint- 
ed Mary,  but  the  sun  bores  a  hole  in  the  head,"  from 
Dona  Ignacia,  whose  increasing  discomfort  banished 
wrath  and  apprehension  for  the  hour. 

Don  Jose  did  not  even  look  at  his  daughter,  but  his 
face  was  ten  years  older  than  in  the  morning.  He  had 

120 


REZANOV  121 

begun  dimly  to  appreciate  that  she  was  suffering,  and 
in  a  manner  vastly  different  from  the  passionate  resent- 
ment he  had  seen  her  display  when  the  contents  of  a 
box  from  Mexico  disappointed  her,  or  she  was  denied  a 
visit  to  Monterey.  That  his  best-beloved  child  should 
suffer  tore  his  own  heart,  but  he  merely  cursed  Rezanov 
and  resolved  to  do  his  best  to  persuade  the  Governor  to 
yield  to  his  other  demands,  that  California  might  be  rid 
of  him  the  sooner. 

Father  Abella  was  walking  down  the  long  outer  cor- 
ridor of  the  Mission  reading  his  breviary,  and  praying 
he  might  not  be  diverted  from  righteousness  by  the  com- 
forting touch  of  his  new  habit,  when  he  looked  up  and 
saw  the  party  from  the  presidio  floundering  over  the 
last  of  the  sand  hills.  He  shuffled  off  to  order  refresh- 
ments, and  returned  in  time  to  disburden  the  carreta 
of  Dona  Ignacia — no  mean  feat — volubly  delighted  in 
the  visit  and  the  gossip  it  portended.  But  as  he  offered 
his  arm  to  lead  her  into  the  sala,  she  pushed  him  aside 
and  pointed  to  Concha,  who  had  sprung  to  the  ground 
unassisted. 

1 '  She  has  come  to  confess,  padre ! ' '  she  exclaimed,  her 
mind,  under  the  deep  tiled  roof  of  the  corridor,  read- 
justing itself  to  tragedy.  ( '  I  beg  that  you  will  take  her 
at  once.  Padre  Landaeta  can  give  us  chocolate  and  we 
will  tell  our  terrible  news  to  him  and  receive  advice  and 
consolation. ' ' 

Father  Abella,  not  without  a  glimmering  of  the  truth, 
for  better  than  anyone  he  understood  the  girl  he  had 
confessed  many  times,  besides  himself  having  succumbed 
to  the  Russian,  led  the  way  to  the  confessional  in  some 
perturbation  of  spirit.  He  walked  slowly,  hoping  that 
the  long  cool  church,  its  narrow  high  windows  admitting 
so  scant  a  meed  of  sunlight  that  no  one  of  its  worship- 
pers had  ever  read  the  painted  legends  on  the  walls, 
and  even  the  stations  were  but  deeper  bits  of  shade, 
would  attune  her  mind  to  holy  things,  and  throw  a 
mantle  of  unreality  over  those  of  the  world. 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hand  as  she  told  her 


122    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

story.  This  she  did  in  a  few  words,  disjointed,  for  she 
was  both  tired  and  seething.  For  a  few  moments  after- 
ward there  was  a  silence;  the  good  priest  was  increas- 
ingly disturbed  and  by  no  means  certain  of  his  course. 
He  was  astonished  to  feel  a  tug  at  his  sleeve.  Before 
he  could  reprove  this  impenitent  child  for  audacity  she 
had  raised  herself  that  she  might  approach  her  lips  more 
closely  to  his  ear. 

* '  Mi  padre ! ' '  she  whispered  hoarsely,  ' '  you  will  take 
my  part !  You  will  not  condemn  me  to  a  life  of  misery ! 
I  am  too  proud  to  speak  openly  to  others — but  I  love 
this  man  more  than  my  soul — more  than  my  immortal 
soul.  Do  you  hear?  I  am  in  danger  of  mortal  sin. 
Perhaps  I  am  already  in  that  state.  You  cannot  save 
me  if  he  goes.  I  will  not  pray.  I  will  not  come  to  the 
church.  I  will  be  an  outcast.  If  I  marry  him,  I  will  be 
a  good  Catholic  to  the  end  of  my  days.  If  I  marry  him, 
I  can  think  of  other  things  besides — of  my  church,  my 
father,  my  mother,  my  sisters,  brothers.  If  he  goes,  I 
shall  pass  my  life  thinking  of  nothing  but  him,  and  if  it 
be  true  that  heretics  are  doomed  to  hell,  then  I  will  live 
so  that  I  may  go  to  hell  with  him." 

In  spite  of  his  horror  the  priest  was  thrilled  by  the 
intense  passion  in  the  voice  so  close  to  his  ear.  More- 
over, he  knew  women  well,  this  good  padre,  for  even  in 
California  they  differed  little  from  those  that  played 
ball  with  the  world.  So  he  dismissed  the  horror  and 
spoke  soothingly. 

' '  What  you  have  said  would  be  mortal  sin,  my  daugh- 
ter, were  it  not  that  you  are  laboring  under  strong  and 
natural  excitement ;  and  I  shall  absolve  you  freely  when 
you  have  done  the  penance  I  must  impose.  You  have 
always  been  such  a  good  child  that  I  am  able  to  forgive 
you  even  in  this  terrible  moment.  But,  my  daughter, 
surely  you  know  that  this  marriage  can  never  take 
place " 

"It  shall!    It  shall!" 

"Control  yourself,  my  daughter.  You  cannot  bring 
this  man  into  the  true  church.  His  character  is  long 


REZANOV  123 

since  formed  and  cast — it  is  iron.  Even  love  will  not 
melt  it.  Were  lie  younger " 

"I  should  hate  him.  All  young  men  are  insufferable 
to  me — always  have  been.  I  have  found  my  mate,  and 
have  him  I  will  if  I  have  to  hide  in  the  hold  of  his  ship. 
Ah,  padre  mio,  I  know  not  what  I  say.  But  you  will 
help  me.  Only  you  can.  My  father  thinks  you  as  wise 
as  a  saint.  And  there  are  other  things — my  head  turns 
round — I  can  hardly  think — but  you  dare  not  lose  the 
friendship  of  this  Russian.  And  my  marriage  to  him 
would  be  as  much  for  the  good  of  the  Missions  as  for 
California  herself.  If  you  champion  our  cause,  point 
out  that  not  only  would  it  be  a  great  match  for  me,  but 
that  many  ends  would  be  lost  by  ruining  my  life.  The 
Governor  will  find  himself  in  a  position  to  grant  your 
prayers  for  the  cargo,  particularly  if  you  first  persuaded 
my  father — so  long  they  have  been  friends,  the  Governor 
could  not  resist  if  he  joined  our  forces.  What  is  one 
girl  that  she  should  be  held  of  greater  account  than  the 
welfare  of  this  country  to  which  you  are  devoting  your 
life?  The  happier  are  your  converts  the  more  kindly 
will  they  take  to  Christianity — which  they  do  not  love 
as  yet! — the  more  faithful  and  contented  will  they  be, 
in  the  prospect  of  the  luxuries  and  the  toys  and  the  trin- 
kets of  the  Russian  north.  What  is  one  girl  against  the 
friendship  of  Russia  for  Spain  ?  Who  am  I  that  I 
should  weigh  a  peseta  in  the  scale?" 

' '  You  are  Concha  Argiiello,  the  flower  of  all  the  maid- 
ens in  California,  and  the  daughter  of  the  best  of  our 
men,"  replied  Father  Abella  musingly.  ''And  until 
to-day  there  has  been  no  Catholic  more  devout " 

"It  lies  with  you,  mi  padre,  whether  I  continue  to  be 
the  best  of  Catholics  or  become  the  most  abandoned  of 
heretics.  You  know  me  better  than  anyone.  You  know 
that  I  will  not  weaken  and  bend  and  submit,  like  a  thou- 
sand other  women.  I  could  be  bad — bad — bad — and  I 
will  be!  Do  you  hear?"  And  she  shook  his  arm  vio- 
lently, while  her  hoarse  voice  filled  the  church. 

' '  My  child !    My  child !    I  have  always  believed  that 


124    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

you  had  it  in  you  to  become  a  saint.  Yes,  yes,  I  feel 
the  strength  and  maturity  of  your  nature,  I  know  the 
lengths  to  which  it  might  lead  another;  but  you  could 
not  be  bad,  Conchita.  I  have  known  many  women.  In 
you  alone  have  I  perceived  the  capacity  for  spiritual  ex- 
altation. You  are  the  stuff  of  which  saints  and  martyrs 
are  made.  The  violent  will,  the  transcendent  passions 
— they  have  existed  in  the  greatest  of  our  saints,  and 
been  conquered/' 

"I  will  not  conquer.  I Oh,  padre — for  the  love 

of  heaven ' ' 

He  left  the  box  hastily  and  lifted  her  where  she  had 
fallen  and  carried  her  into  the  room  adjoining  the 
church.  He  laid  her  on  the  floor,  and  ran  for  Dona  Ig- 
nacia,  who,  refreshed  with  wine  and  chocolate,  came 
swiftly.  But  when  Concha,  under  practical  administra- 
tions and  maternal  endearments,  finally  opened  her  eyes, 
she  pushed  her  mother  coldly  aside,  rose  and  steadied 
herself  against  the  wall  for  a  moment,  then  returned 
to  the  church,  closing  the  door  behind  her. 

When  a  woman  has  borne  thirteen  children  in  the  lost 
corners  of  the  world,  with  scarce  a  thought  in  thirty 
years  for  aught  else  save  the  husband  and  his  comforts, 
it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  her  wits  should  be  rapiers 
or  her  vocabulary  distinguished.  But  Dona  Ignacia's 
unresting  heart  had  an  intelligence  of  its  own,  and  no 
inner  convulsion  could  alter  the  superb  dignity  of  mien 
which  Nature  had  granted  her.  As  she  rose  and  con- 
fronted Father  Abella  he  moved  forward  with  the  in- 
stinct to  kiss  her  hand,  as  he  had  seen  Rezanov  do. 

"Mi  padre,"  she  said,  "Concha  is  the  first  of  my 
children  to  push  me  aside,  and  it  is  like  a  blow  on  the 
heart;  but  I  have  neither  anger  nor  resentment,  for  it 
was  not  the  act  of  a  child  to  its  parent,  but  of  one 
woman  to  another.  Alas!  this  Eussian,  what  has  he 
done,  when  her  own  mother  can  give  her  no  comfort? 
We  all  love  when  young,  but  this  is  more.  I  loved  Jose 
so  much  I  thought  I  should  die  when  they  would  have 
compelled  me  to  marry  another.  But  this  is  more.  She 


REZANOV  125 

will  not  die,  nor  even  go  to  bed  and  weep  for  days,  but 
it  is  more.  I  should  not  have  died,  I  know  that  now, 
and  in  time  I  should  have  married  another,  and  been  as 
happy  as  a  woman  can  be  when  the  man  is  kind.  Con- 
cha will  love  but  once,  and  she  will  suffer — suffer —  She 
may  be  more  than  I,  but  I  bore  her  and  I  know.  And 
she  cannot  marry  him.  A  heretic!  I  no  longer  think 
of  the  terrible  separation.  Were  he  a  Catholic  I  should 
not  think  of  myself  again.  But  it  cannot  be.  Oh,  padre, 
what  shall  we  do?'7 

They  talked  for  a  long  while,  and  after  further  con- 
sultation with  Don  Jose  and  Father  Landaeta,  it  was 
decided  that  Concha  should  remain  for  the  present  in 
the  house  of  Juan  Moraga,  where  she  could  receive  the 
daily  counsels  of  the  priests,  and  be  beyond  the  reach 
of  Rezanov.  Meanwhile,  all  influence  would  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  Governor  that  the  Russian  might  be 
placated  even  while  made  to  realize  that  to  loiter  longer 
in  California  waters  would  be  but  a  waste  of  precious 
time. 


XVIII 

THERE  was  no  performance  after  all  in  the  Presidio 
square  that  night,  for  the  bear  brought  in  from  the  hills 
to  do  honor  to  the  Russians  died  of  exictement,  and  it 
rained  besides.  Rezanov  made  the  storm  his  excuse  for 
not  dining  and  dancing  as  usual  at  the  house  of  the 
Commandante.  But  the  relations  between  the  Presidio 
and  the  Juno  during  the  next  few  days  were  by  no 
means  strained.  Davidov  and  Khostov  were  always  with 
the  Spanish  officers,  drinking  and  card  playing,  or  im- 
proving their  dancing  and  Spanish  with  the  girls,  whose 
guitars  were  tuned  for  the  waltz  day  and  night.  The 
dignitaries  met  as  usual  and  conversed  on  all  topics 
save  those  paramount  in  the  minds  of  each.  Neverthe- 
less, there  were  three  significant  facts  as  well  known  to 
Rezanov  as  had  they  been  aired  to  his  liking. 

He  had  sought  an  interview  with  Father  Abella,  and 
tactfully  ignoring  the  question  of  his  marriage,  had  per- 
suaded that  astute  and  influential  priest  to  make  the 
proposition  regarding  his  cargo  that  Concha  had  sug- 
gested. The  priest,  backed  by  his  three  coadjutors,  had 
made  it,  and  been  repulsed  with  fury.  From  another 
quarter  Rezanov  learned  that  during  his  absence  little 
else  was  discussed  in  the  house  of  the  Commandante 
save  his  formidable  matrimonial  project,  and  the  sup- 
posed designs  of  his  country.  Troops  had  been  ordered 
from  the  south  to  reinforce  the  San  Francisco  garrisons, 
and  were  even  now  massed  at  Santa  Clara,  within  a  day 's 
march  of  the  bay. 

About  a  mile  from  the  Presidio  and  almost  opposite 
the  Juno's  anchorage  were  six  great  stone  tubs  sunken 
in  the  ground  and  filled  by  a  spring  of  clear  water. 
Here,  once  a  week,  the  linen,  fine  and  heavy,  of  Fort 
and  Presidio  was  washed,  the  stoutest  serving  women  of 

126 


REZANOV  127 

households  and  barracks  meeting  at  dawn  and  scrubbing 
for  half  a  day.  Rezanov  had  watched  the  bright  picture 
they  made — for  they  wore  a  bit  of  every  hue  they  could 
command — with  a  lazy  interest,  which  quickened  to 
thirst  when  he  heard  that  they  were  the  most  reliable 
newsmongers  in  the  country.  In  every  Presidial  dis- 
trict was  a  similar  institution,  and  the  four  were  known 
as  the  "Wash  Tub  Mail."  Many  of  the  women  were 
selected  by  the  tyrants  of  the  tubs  for  their  comeliness, 
and  each  had  a  lover  in  the  couriers  that  went  regularly 
with  mail  and  official  instructions  from  one  end  of  the 
Californias  to  the  other.  All  important  news  was  known 
first  by  these  women,  and  much  was  discussed  over  the 
tubs  that  was  long  in  reaching  higher  but  no  less  inter- 
ested circles;  and  domestic  bulletins  were  as  eagerly 
prized.  The  sailor  that  brought  this  information  to 
Rezanov  was  a  good-looking  and  susceptible  youth,  al- 
ready the  victim  of  an  Indian  maiden  from  the  hand- 
some tribe  in  the  Santa  Clara  valley  and  sister  of  Dona 
Ignacia  's  Malia.  Rezanov  furnished  him  with  beads  and 
other  trinkets,  and  was  at  no  disadvantage  thereafter. 

There  was  nothing  Rezanov  would  have  liked  better 
than  to  see  a  Russian  fleet  sail  through  the  straits,  but 
he  also  knew  that  nothing  was  less  likely,  and  that  from 
such  rumors  he  should  only  derive  further  annoyance 
and  delay.  Two  of  his  sailors  deserted  at  the  prospect 
of  war,  and  his  hosts,  if  neutral,  were  manifestly  alert. 
Luis  and  Santiago  had  been  obliged  to  go  to  Monterey 
for  a  few  days,  and  there  was  no  one  at  the  Presidio  in 
whom  Rezanov  could  confide  either  his  impatience  to 
see  Concha  or  at  the  adjournment  of  his  more  prosaic 
but  no  less  pressing  interests.  These  two  young  men 
had  been  with  him  almost  constantly  since  his  arrival, 
and  demonstrated  their  friendship  and  even  affection 
unfailingly;  but  there  was  no  love  lost  between  himself 
and  Gervasio.  This  young  hidalgo  had  the  hauteur  and 
intense  family  pride  of  Santiago  without  his  younger 
brother's  frank  intelligence  and  lingering  ingenuous- 
ness. With  all  the  superiority  of  inferiority,  he  had 


128    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

made  himself  so  unpopular  that  his  real  kindness  of 
heart  atoned  for  his  absurdities  only  with  those  that 
knew  him  best.  Rezanov  was  not  of  these  nor  aspired  to 
be.  Like  all  highly  seasoned  men  of  the  world,  he  had 
no  patience  with  the  small  vanities  of  the  provincial, 
and  although  diplomatically  courteous  to  all,  in  his 
present  precarious  position,  he  had  taken  too  little  trou- 
ble to  conciliate  Gervasio  to  find  him  of  use  in  the  ab- 
sence of  his  friends. 

At  the  end  of  three  days  Rezanov  had  forgotten  his 
cargo,  and  would  have  sent  the  Juno  to  the  bottom  for 
ten  minutes  alone  with  Concha.  He  had  been  on  fire  with 
love  of  her  since  the  moment  of  his  actual  surrender,  and 
he  was  determined  to  have  her  if  there  were  no  other 
resource  but  elopement.  All  his  old  and  intense  love 
of  personal  freedom  had  melted  out  of  form  in  the  cru- 
cible of  his  lover's  imagination.  That  he  should  have 
doubted  for  a  moment  that  Concha  was  the  woman  for 
whom  his  soul  had  held  itself  aloof  and  unshackled 
was  a  matter  for  contemptuous  wonder,  and  the  pride  he 
had  taken  in  his  keen  and  swift  perceptive  faculties  suf- 
fered an  eclipse.  Mind  and  soul  and  body  he  was  a 
lover,  a  union  unknown  before. 

On  the  fourth  morning,  his  patience  at  an  end,  he 
was  about  to  leave  the  Juno  to  demand  a  formal  inter- 
view with  Don  Jose  when  he  saw  Luis  and  Santiago 
dismount  at  the  beach  and  enter  the  canoe  always  in 
waiting.  A  few  moments  later  they  had  helped  them- 
selves to  cigarettes  from  the  gift  of  the  Tsar  and  were 
assuring  Rezanov  of  their  partisanship  and  approval. 

' '  We  were  somewhat  taken  aback  at  the  first  moment, ' ' 
Luis  admitted.  "But — well,  we  are  both  in  love — San- 
tiago no  less  than  I,  although  I  have  had  these  six  long 
years  of  waiting  and  am  likely  to  have  another.  And 
we  love  Concha  as  few  men  love  their  sisters,  for  there 
is  no  one  like  her — is  it  not  so,  Rezanov?  And  we  quite 
understand  why  she  has  chosen  you,  and  why  she  stands 
firm,  for  we  know  the  strength  of  her  character.  We 
would  that  you  were  a  Catholic,  but  even  so,  we  will 


REZANOV  129 

not  sit  by  and  see  her  life  ruined,  and  we  have  called  to 
assure  you  that  we  shall  use  all  our  influence,  every 
adroit  argument,  to  bring  our  parents  to  a  more  reason- 
able frame  of  mind.  They  have  already  risen  above  the 
first  natural  impulse  of  selfishness,  and  would  consent 
to  the  inevitable  separation  were  you  only  a  Catholic. 
I  have  also  talked  with  the  Governor — we  arrived  at 
midnight — and  he  flew  into  a  terrible  temper — the  poor 
man  is  already  like  a  mad  bull  at  bay — but  if  my  father 
yielded,  he  would — on  all  points.  This  morning  I  shall 
ride  over  and  talk  with  Father  Abella,  who,  I  fancy, 
needs  only  a  little  extra  pressure — you  may  be  sure 
Concha  has  not  been  idle — to  yield;  and  for  more  rea- 
sons than  one.  I  shall  enlist  Father  Uria  and  Father 
de  la  Cueva  as  well.  They  also  have  great  influence 
with  my  parents,  and  as  they  return  to  San  Jose  in  two 
days  to  prepare  for  the  visit  of  the  most  estimable  Dr. 
Langsdorff,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  I  shall  go  this 
morning.  One  more  cigarito,  seiior,  and  when  that  treaty 
is  drawn  remember  the  conversion  of  your  brother  to 
Russian  tobacco." 

Rezanov  thanked  him  so  warmly,  assured  him  with 
so  convincing  an  emphasis  that  with  his  fate  in  such 
competent  hands  his  mind  was  at  peace,  that  the  ardent 
heart  of  the  Calif  ornian  exulted ;  Rezanov,  with  his  splen- 
did appearance,  and  typical  of  the  highest  civilizations 
of  Europe,  had  descended  upon  his  narrow  sphere  with 
the  authority  of  a  demigod,  and  he  not  only  thirsted  to 
serve  him,  but  to  fasten  him  to  California  with  the 
surest  of  human  bonds. 

As  he  dropped  over  the  side  of  the  ship,  Rezanov 's 
hand  fell  lightly  on  the  shoulder  of  Santiago. 

"I  can  wait  no  longer  to  see  your  sister,"  he  whis- 
pered, mindful  of  the  sterner  responsibilities  of  the  older 
brother.  "Do  you  think  you  could " 

Santiago  nodded.  "While  Luis  is  at  the  Mission  I 
shall  go  to  my  cousin  Juan  Moraga's.  You  will  dine 
with  us  at  the  Presidio,  and  I  shall  escort  you  back  to 
the  shiD ." 


XIX 

IT  was  ten  o'clock  when  Kezanov,  who  had  supped  on 
the  Juno,  met  Santiago  in  a  sandy  valley  half  a  mile 
from  the  Presidio  and  mounted  the  horse  his  young 
friend  himself  had  saddled  and  brought.  The  long  ride 
was  a  silent  one.  The  youth  was  not  talkative  at  any 
time,  and  Rezanov  was  conscious  of  little  else  save  an 
overwhelming  desire  to  see  Concha  again.  One  secret 
of  his  success  in  life  was  his  gift  of  yielding  to  one 
energy  at  a  time,  oblivious  at  the  moment  to  aught  that 
might  distract  or  enfeeble  the  will.  To-night,  as  he  rode 
toward  the  Mission  on  as  romantic  a  quest  as  ever  came 
the  way  of  a  lover,  the  diplomat,  the  anxious  director  of 
a  great  Company,  the  representative  of  one  of  the  mighty 
potentates  of  earth,  were  submerged,  forgotten,  in  the 
thrilling  anticipation  of  his  hour  with  the  woman  for 
whom  every  fiber  of  his  being  yearned. 

Nor  ever  was  there  more  appropriate  a  setting  for 
one  of  those  inaugural  chapters  in  mating,  half  appre- 
ciated at  the  time,  that  glimmer  as  a  sort  of  morning 
twilight  on  mountain  tops  over  the  mild  undulations  of 
matrimony.  The  moon  rode  without  a  masking  cloud 
across  the  ambiguous  night  blue  of  the  California  sky, 
a  blue  that  looks  like  the  fire  of  strange  elements,  where 
the  stars  glow  like  silver  coals,  and  out  of  whose  depths 
intense  shadows  of  blue  and  black  fall ;  shadows  in  which 
all  the  under  world  seems  to  float  and  recombine,  where 
houses  are  ghosts  of  ancient  selves  and  men  but  the 
eidola  of  forgotten  dust.  To-night  the  little  estate  of 
Juan  Moraga,  the  most  isolated  and  eastern  of  the  set- 
tlement, surrounded  by  its  high  white  wall,  looked  as 
unreal  and  formless  as  the  blue  oval  of  water  and  black 
trees  behind  it,  but  Kezanov  knew  that  it  enfolded  warm 

130 


REZANOV  131 

and  palpitating  womanhood  and  was  steeped  in  the 
sweetness  of  Castilian  roses. 

The  riders,  who  had  taken  a  path  far  to  the  east  of 
the  Mission,  dismounted  and  tied  their  horses  among 
the  willows,  then,  in  their  dark  cloaks  but  a  part  of  the 
shadows,  stole  toward  the  wall  designed  to  impress  hos- 
tile tribes  rather  than  to  resist  an  onslaught;  at  the 
first  warning  the  settlement  invariably  fled  to  the  church 
where  walls  were  massive  and  windows  high. 

In  three  of  Moraga  's  four  walls  was  a  grille,  or  wicket 
of  slender  iron  bars,  whence  the  open  could  be  swept 
with  glass,  or  gun  at  a  pinch ;  and  for  the  grille  looking 
eastward  went  Rezanov  as  swiftly  as  the  uneven  ground 
would  permit.  As  Concha  watched  him  gather  form 
in  the  moonlight  and  saw  him  jerk  his  cloak  off  impa- 
tiently, she  flung  her  soft  body  against  the  wall  and 
shook  the  bars  with  her  strong  little  hands.  But  when 
he  faced  her  she  was  erect  and  smiling;  in  a  sudden 
uprush  of  spirits,  almost  indifferent.  She  wore  a  white 
gown  and  a  rose  in  her  hair.  A  rosebush  as  dense  as  an 
arbor  spread  its  prickly  arms  between  herself  and  the 
windows  of  the  house. 

' '  Good-evening, ' '  she  whispered. 

Rezanov  gave  the  grille  an  angry  shake.  (Santiago 
had  considerately  retired.)  "Come  out,"  he  said  per- 
emptorily, "or  let  me  in." 

"There  is  but  one  gate,  sefior,  and  that  is  directly 
in  front  of  the  house  door,  that  stands  open " 

"Then  I  shall  get  over  the  wall " 

"Madre  de  Dios!  You  would  leave  your  fine  clothes 
and  more  on  the  thorns.  My  cousin  planted  those  roses 
not  for  ornament,  but  to  let  the  blood  of  defiant  lovers. 
Not  one  has  come  twice " 

"Do  you  think  I  came  here  to  talk  to  you  through  a 
grating?  I  am  no  serenading  Spaniard." 

His  eyes  were  blazing.  Adobe  is  not  stone.  Rezanov 
took  the  light  bars  in  both  hands  and  wrenched  them 
out;  then,  as  Concha,  divided  between  laughter  and  a 
sudden  timidity,  would  have  retreated,  he  dexterously 


132    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

clasped  her  neck  and  drew  her  head  through  the  em- 
brasure. As  Santiago,  who  had  watched  Rezanov  from 
a  distance  with  some  curiosity,  saw  his  sister's  beautiful 
face  emerge  from  the  wall  to  disappear  at  once  behind 
another  rampart,  he  turned  abruptly  on  his  heel  and 
could  have  wept  as  he  thought  of  Pilar  Ortego  of  Santa 
Barbara.  But  there  was  a  hope  that  he  would  be  a 
cadet  of  the  Southern  Company  before  the  year  was 
out,  and  his  parents  and  hers  were  indulgent.  Even 
as  he  sighed,  his  own  impending  happiness  infused  him 
with  an  almost  patronizing  sympathy  for  the  twain  with 
the  wall  between,  and  he  concealed  himself  among  the 
willows  that  they  might  feel  to  the  full  the  blessed  isola- 
tion of  lovers.  His  Pilar  presented  him  with  twenty- 
two  hostages,  and  he  lived  to  enjoy  an  honorable  and  a 
prosperous  career,  but  he  never  forgot  that  night  and  the 
part  he  had  played  in  one  of  the  poignant  and  happy 
hours  of  his  sister's  life. 

Day  and  night  a  great  silence  reigned  in  the  Mission 
valley,  broken  only  by  the  hoot  of  the  owl,  the  singing 
of  birds,  the  flight  of  horses  across  the  plain.  Even  the 
low  huddle  of  Mission  buildings  and  the  few  homes 
beyond  looked  an  anomaly  in  that  vast  quiet  valley 
asleep  and  unknown  for  so  many  centuries  in  the  wide 
embrace  of  the  hills.  Its  jewel  oasis  alone  made  it 
acceptable  to  the  Spaniard,  but  to  Rezanov  the  sandy 
desert,  with  its  close  companionable  silences,  its  cool 
night  air  sweet  with  the  light  chaste  fragrance  of  the 
roses,  the  simple,  almost  primitive,  conditions  environ- 
ing the  girl,  possessed  a  power  to  stir  the  depths  of  his 
emotions  as  no  artful  reinforcement  to  passion  had  ever 
done.  He  forgot  the  wall.  His  ego  melted  in  a  sense 
of  complete  union  and  happiness.  Even  when  they 
returned  to  earth  and  discussed  the  dubious  future,  he 
was  conscious  of  an  odd  resignation,  very  alien  in  his 
nature,  not  only  to  the  barrier  but  to  all  the  strange 
conditions  of  his  wooing.  He  had  felt  something  of  this 
before,  although  less  definitely,  and  to-night  he  con- 
cluded that  she  had  the  gift  of  clothing  the  inevitable 


REZANOV  133 

with  the  semblance  and  the  sweetness  of  choice;  and 
wondered  how  long  it  would  be  able  to  skirt  the  arid 
steppes  of  philosophy. 

She  told  him  that  she  had  talked  daily  with  Father 
Abella.  "He  will  say  nothing  to  admit  he  is  weaken- 
ing, but  I  feel  sure  he  has  realized  not  only  that  our 
marriage  will  be  for  the  best  interests  of  California,  but 
that  to  forbid  it  would  wreck  my  life;  and  from  this 
responsibility  he  shrinks.  I  can  see  it  in  his  kind, 
shrewd,  perplexed  eyes,  in  the  hesitating  inflections  of 
his  voice,  to  say  nothing  of  the  poor  arguments  he 
advances  to  mine.  What  of  my  father  and  mother  ? ' ' 

"They  look  troubled,  almost  ill,  but  nothing  could 
exceed  their  kindness  to  me,  although  they  have  point- 
edly given  me  no  opportunity  to  introduce  the  subject 
of  our  marriage  again.  The  Governor  makes  no  sign 
that  he  knows  of  any  aspiration  of  mine  above  corn, 
but  he  informed  me  to-day  that  California  is  doomed 
to  abandonment,  that  the  Indians  are  hopeless,  that 
Spain  will  withdraw  troops  before  she  will  send  others, 
and  that  the  country  will  either  revert  to  savagery 
or  fall  a  prey  to  the  first  enterprising  outsider.  As 
he  was  in  comparison  cheerful  before,  I  fancy  he  ap- 
prehends the  irresistible  appeal  of  your  father's  sur- 
render. ' ' 

Concha  nodded.  "If  my  father  yields  he  will  see 
that  you  have  everything  else  that  you  wish.  He  may 
have  advocated  meeting  your  wishes  in  other  respects 
in  order  to  leave  you  without  excuse  to  linger,  but  that 
argument  is  not  strong  enough  for  the  Governor,  whereas 
if  he  made  up  his  mind  to  accept  you  as  a  son  he 
would  throw  the  whole  force  of  his  character  and  will 
into  the  scale ;  and  when  he  reaches  that  pitch  he  wins — 
with  men.  I  must,  must  bring  you  good  fortune, "  she 
added  anxiously.  "Marriage  with  a  little  California 
girl — are  you  sure  it  will  not  ruin  your  career?" 

"I  can  think  of  nothing  that  would  advantage  it 
more.  "What  are  you  going  to  call  me?" 

"I   cannot   say  Petrovich   or   Nicola'i — my   Spanish 


BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

tongue  rebels.    I  shall  call  you  Pedro.     That  is  a  very 
pretty  name  with  us. ' ' 

"My  own  harsh  names  suit  my  battered  self  rather 
better,  but  the  more  Californian  you  are  and  remain 
the  happier  I  shall  be.  When  am  I  to  see  your  ears? 
Are  they  deformed,  pointed  and  furry  like  a  fawn's? 
Do  they  stand  out?  Were  all  the  women  of  California 
tattooed  in  some  Indian  raid " 

Concha  glanced  about  apprehensively,  but  not  even 
Santiago  was  there  to  see  the  dreadful  deed.  With  a 
defiant  sweep  of  her  hands  she  lifted  both  loops  of 
hair,  and  two  little  ears,  rosy  even  in  the  moonlight, 
commanded  amends  and  more  from  penitent  lips. 

"No  man  has  ever  seen  them  before — since  I  was  a 
baby;  not  even  my  father  and  brothers,"  said  Concha, 
trembling  between  horror  and  rapture  at  the  tremendous 
surrender.  "You  will  never  remind  me  of  it.  Ay  yi! 
promise — Pedro  mio!" 

"On  condition  that  you  promise  not  to  confess  it. 
I  should  like  to  be  sure  that  your  mind  belonged  as 
much  to  me  and  as  little  to  others  as  possible.  I  do 
not  object  to  confession — we  have  it  in  our  church; 
but  remember  that  there  are  other  things  as  sacred  as 
your  religion." 

She  nodded.  "I  understand — better  than  you  under- 
stand Romanism.  I  must  confess  that  I  met  you  to- 
night, but  Father  Abella  is  too  discreet  to  ask  for  more. 
It  is  such  blessed  memories  that  feed  the  soul,  and  they 
would  fly  away  on  a  whisper." 


XX 

THE  next  morning  Father  Abella  rode  over  to  the 
Presidio  and  was  closeted  for  an  hour  with  the  Com- 
mandante  and  the  Governor.  Then  the  three  rode  down 
to  the  beach,  entered  a  canoe,  and  paddled  out  to  the 
Juno.  Rezanov  met  them  on  deck  with  a  gravity  as 
significant  as  their  own,  but  led  them  at  once  to  the 
cabin  where  wine,  and  the  cigarettes  for  which  alone 
they  would  have  counselled  the  treaty,  awaited  them. 

The  quartette  pledged  each  other  in  an  embarrassed 
silence,  disposed  of  a  moment  more  with  obdurate 
matches.  Don  Jose  inhaled  audibly,  then  lifted  his  eyes 
and  met  the  veiled  and  steady  gaze  of  the  Russian. 

"Seiior,"  he  said,  "I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I 
consent  to  your  marriage  with  my  daughter. " 

' '  Thank  you, ' '  said  Rezanov.  And  their  hands  clasped 
across  the  table. 

But  this  was  far  too  simple  for  the  taste  of  a  Governor. 
So  important  an  occasion  demanded  official  dignity  and 
many  words. 

"Your  excellency,"  he  said  severely,  sitting  very 
erect,  with  one  white  hand  on  the  table  and  the  other 
on  the  hilt  of  his  sword  (yet  full  of  courtesy,  and 
longing  to  enjoy  the  cheer  and  conversation  of  his  host)  ; 
<rttie  peaceful  monotony  of  our  lives  has  been  rudely 
shaken  by  a  demand  upon  three  fallible  human  beings 
to  alter  the  course  of  history  in  two  great  nations.  That 
is  a  sufficient  excuse  for  the  suspense  to  which  we  have 
been  forced  to  subject  you.  The  marriage  of  a  Russian 
and  a  Spaniard  is  of  no  great  moment  in  itself,  but 
the  marriage  of  the  Plenipotentiary  of  the  Tsar  himself 
with  the  daughter  of  Jose  Dario  Argiiello,  not  only  one 
of  the  most  eminent,  respected,  and  distinguished  of  His 

135 


136    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Most  Catholic  Majesty's  subjects  in  New  Spain,  but  a 
man  so  beloved  and  influential  that  he  could  create  a  rev- 
olution were  he  so  minded — indeed,  Jose,  no  one  knows 
better  than  I  how  incapable  you  are  of  treason" — as 
the  Commandante  gave  a  loud  exclamation  of  horror — 
"I  merely  illustrate  and  emphasize.  My  sands  are 
nearly  run,  Excellency;  it  is  to  the  estimable  mind  and 
strong  paternal  hand  of  my  friend  that  this  miserable 
colony  must  look  before  long,  would  she  continue  even 
this  hand  to  mouth  existence — a  fact  well  known  to  our 
king  and  natural  lord.  When  he  hears  of  this  projected 
alliance " 

"Projected?"  exclaimed  Kezanov.  "I  wish  to  marry 
at  once." 

Father  Abella  shook  his  head  vigorously,  but  he 
spoke  with  great  kindness.  "That,  Excellency,  alas,  is 
the  one  point  upon  which  we  are  forced  to  disappoint 
you.  Indeed,  our  own  submission  to  your  wishes  is  con- 
tingent. This  marriage  cannot  take  place  without  a 
dispensation  from  Kome  and  the  consent  of  the  King." 

Kezanov  looked  at  Don  Jose.  "You  too?"  he  asked 
curtly. 

The  Commandante  stirred  uneasily,  heaved  a  deep 
sigh ;  he  thought  of  the  long  impatience  of  his  Concha. 
"It  is  true,"  he  said.  "Not  only  would  it  be  impossible 
for  my  conscience  to  resign  itself  to  the  marriage  of 
my  daughter  with  a  heretic — pardon,  Excellency — 
without  the  blessing  of  the  Pope;  not  only  would  no 
priest  in  California  perform  the  ceremony  until  it  ar- 
rived, but  it  would  mean  the  degradation  of  Governor 
Arrillaga  and  myself,  and  the  ruin  of  all  your  other 
hopes.  "We  should  be  ordered  summarily  to  Mexico, 
perhaps  worse,  and  no  Russian  would  ever  be  permitted 
to  set  foot  in  the  Californias  again.  I  would  it  were 
otherwise.  I  know — I  know — but  it  is  inevitable.  Your 
excellency  must  see  it.  Even  were  you  a  Catholic,  Gover- 
nor Arrillaga  and  the  President  of  the  Missions,  at  least, 
would  not  dare  to  countenance  this  marriage  without 
the  consent  of  the  King." 


REZANOV  137 

Bezanov  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes.  In  spite  of 
the  emotions  of  the  past  few  days  he  was  astonished 
at  the  depth  and  keenness  of  his  disappointment.  But 
never  yet  had  he  failed  to  realize  when  he  was  beaten, 
nor  to  trim  his  sails  without  loss  of  precious  time. 

"Very  well,"  he  said.  "I  will  go  to  St.  Petersburg 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  obtain  personal  letters 
from  the  Tsar  and  proceed  post  haste  to  Rome  and 
Madrid.  At  the  same  time  I  shall  arrange  for  the 
treaty  with  full  authority  from  the  Tsar.  Then  I  shall 
sail  from  Spain  to  Mexico  and  reach  here  as  soon  as 
may  be.  It  will  take  a  long  while,  the  best  part  of  two 
years;  but  I  have  your  word " 

"You  have,"  the  three  asserted  with  solemn  emphasis. 

"Very  well.  But  there  is  one  thing  more.  I  am  not 
in  a  diplomatic  humor.  My  Sitkans  are  starving.  I 
must  leave  here  with  a  shipload  of  breadstuff s." 

Again  the  Governor  drew  up  his  slim  soldierly  figure ; 
deposited  his  cigarette  on  the  malachite  ash  tray.  "You 
may  be  sure  that  we  have  given  that  momentous  ques- 
tion our  deepest  consideration.  Father  Abella's  sugges- 
tion that  we  buy  your  commodities  for  cash,  and  that 
with  our  Spanish  dollars  you  buy  again  of  us,  did  not 
strike  me  favorably  at  first,  for  it  savored  of  sophistry. 
I  may  have  failed  in  every  attempt  to  benefit  and  ad- 
vance this  Godforsaken  country,  but  at  least  I  have  been 
the  honest  agent  of  my  King.  But  the  circumstances 
are  extraordinary.  You  are  about  to  become  one  of  us, 
to  do  our  unhappy  colony  the  greatest  service  that  is 
in  the  power  of  any  mortal,  and  personally  you  have 
inspired  us  with  affection  and  respect.  I  have  there- 
fore decided  that  the  exchange  shall  be  made  on  these 
terms,  but  that  your  cargo  shall  be  received  by  Don 
Jose  Argiiello,  Commandante  of  the  San  Francisco  Com- 
pany, and  held  in  trust  until  the  formal  consent  of  the 
King  to  the  purchase  shall  arrive." 

Rezanov  glowed  to  his  finger  tips.  Not  even  the  as- 
surance of  his  union  with  the  woman  of  his  heart,  which 
after  all  had  met  but  the  skeleton  of  his  desires,  gave 


138    BEF.ORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

him  the  acute  satisfaction  of  this  sudden  fulfilment  of 
his  self-imposed  mission.  He  dropped  his  own  offi- 
cial demeanor  and  throwing  himself  across  the  table 
gripped  the  Governor's  hand  while  he  poured  out  his 
thanks  in  a  voice  thick  with  feeling,  his  eyes  glittering 
with  more  than  victory.  He  did  not  lose  sight  of  his 
ultimate  designs  and  pledge  himself  to  eternal  friend- 
ship, but  he  unwittingly  conveyed  the  impression  that 
Spain  had  that  day  made  a  friend  she  ill  could  afford 
to  lose ;  and  his  three  visitors  rose  well  pleased  with  the 
culmination  of  the  interview. 

"You  must  stay  here  no  longer,  Rezanov,"  said  Don 
Jose,  as  they  were  taking  leave.  "My  house  is  now 
literally  your  own.  It  will  be  some  weeks  before  the 
large  quantities  of  corn  and  flour  and  other  stores  you 
wish  can  be  got  together — for  we  must  lay  a  requisition 
on  the  fertile  Mission  ranchos  in  the  valleys — and  you 
will  exchange  these  narrow  quarters  for  such  poor  com- 
fort as  my  house  affords — I  take  no  denial.  Concha  will 
remain  at  Juan  Moraga's  for  the  present. " 


XXI 

CONCHA,  after  her  father  left  her,  sat  for  a  long  while 
in  an  attitude  of  such  complete  repose  that  Sturgis, 
watching  her  miserably  from  the  veranda,  remembered 
the  consolations  of  his  sketch  book;  and  he  was  able  to 
counterfeit  the  graceful  proud  figure,  under  the  wall  and 
the  roses,  before  she  stirred. 

Concha  had  sent  her  father  away  deeply  puzzled. 
"When,  after  embracing  her  with  unusual  emotion,  he 
had  informed  her  of  his  consent  to  her  marriage,  she 
had  received  the  news  as  a  matter  of  course,  her  hopes 
and  desires  having  mounted  too  high  to  contemplate  a 
fall.     Then  the  Commandante,  after  dwelling  at  some 
length  upon  his  discussions  with  the  Governor  and  the 
priests,  and  admonishing  her  against  conceiving  herself 
too  important  a  factor  in  what  might  prove  to  be  an 
alliance  of  international  moment  (she  had  laughed  mer- 
rily and  called  him  the  most  callous  of  parents  and 
subtlest  of  diplomats),  had  announced  with  some  trepi- 
dation and  his  most  official  manner  that  the  consent  of 
the  Pope  and  the  King  would  be  sought  by  Rezanov 
in  person,  involving  a  delay  and  separation  of  not  less 
than  two  years.    But  to  his  surprise  she  did  not  fling 
herself  upon  his  neck  with  blandishments  and  tears. 
She  merely  became  quite  still,  her  light  high  spirits  re- 
treating as  a  breeze  might  before  one  of  Nature  Js  sudden 
and  portentous  calms.     Don  Jose,  after  a  fruitless  at- 
tempt to  recapture  her  interest,  mounted  his  horse  and 
rode  away ;  and  Concha  sat  down  on  a  bench  under  the 
wall  and  thought  for  an  hour  without  moving  a  finger. 

Her  first  sensation  was  one  of  bitter  anger  and  dis- 
appointment with  Rezanov.     He  had,  apparently,  in 

139 


140    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  first  brief  interview  with  their  tribunal,  given  his 
consent  to  this  long  delay  of  their  nuptials. 

Her  thoughts  since  his  advent  had  flown  on  many 
journeys  and  known  little  rest.  She  had  been  rudely 
awakened  and  stripped  of  her  girlish  illusions  in  those 
days  and  nights  of  battle  between  pride  and  her  dazzled 
womanhood  when,  in  the  new  humility  of  love,  she 
believed  herself  to  be  but  one  of  a  hundred  pretty  girls 
in  the  eyes  of  this  accomplished  and  fortunate  Russian. 
The  interval  had  been  brief,  but  long  enough  for  the 
grandeur  in  her  nature  to  awaken  almost  concurrently 
with  her  passions,  and  she  had  planned  a  life,  in  which, 
guided  and  uplifted  by  the  star  of  fidelity,  and  delivered 
from  the  frivolous  and  commonplace  temptations  of 
other  women,  she  should  devote  herself  to  the  improve- 
ment and  instruction  not  only  of  the  Indians  but  of  the 
youth  of  her  own  class.  The  schools  founded  by  the 
estimable  and  enterprising  Borica  had  practically  disap- 
peared, and  she  was  by  far  the  best  educated  woman  in 
California.  For  such  there  was  a  manifest  career  and 
an  inexorable  duty.  She  would  live  to  be  old,  she  sup- 
posed, like  all  the  Argiiellos  and  Moragas;  but  hidden 
in  her  unspotted  soul  would  be  the  flame  of  eternal 
youth,  fed  by  an  ideal  and  a  memory  that  would  outlive 
her  weary  insignificant  body.  And  in  it  she  would  find 
her  courage  and  her  inspiration  as  well  as  an  unwasting 
sympathy  for  those  she  taught. 

Then  had  come  the  sudden  and  passionate  wooing  of 
Rezanov.  All  other  ideals  and  aspirations  had  fled.  She 
had  alternated  between  the  tragic  extremes  of  bliss  and 
despair.  So  completely  did  the  ardor  of  her  nature 
respond  to  his,  so  fierce  and  primitive  was  the  cry  of 
her  ego  for  its  mate,  that  she  cared  nothing  for  the 
distress  of  her  parents  nor  the  fate  of  California.  There 
is  no  love  complete  without  this  early  and  absolute 
selfishness,  which  is  merely  the  furious  determination  of 
the  race  to  accomplish  its  object  before  the  spirit  awakens 
and  the  passions  cool. 

Last  night  life  had  seemed  less  serious;  she  had  been 


REZANOV  141 

girlishly,  romantically  happy.  It  is  true  that  her  heart 
had  thumped  against  the  wall  as  he  kissed  her,  and  that 
she  had  been  full  of  a  wild  desire  to  sing,  although  she 
could  hardly  shape  and  utter  the  words  that  danced  in 
her  throbbing  brain.  But  she  had  been  conscious 
through  it  all  of  the  romantic  circumstance,  of  the 
lonely  beauty  of  the  night,  of  the  delightful  wicked- 
ness of  meeting  her  lover  in  the  silence  and  the  dark, 
even  with  a  wall  ten  feet  high  between  them.  For  the 
wall,  indeed,  she  had  been  confusedly  and  deliciously 
grateful. 

And  this  was  what  a  man's  love  came  to:  ardors 
by  night  and  expedience  by  day !  Or  was  it  merely  that 
Rezanov  was  the  man  of  affairs  always,  the  lover  inci- 
dentally? But  how  could  a  man  who  had  seemed  the 
very  epitome  of  all  the  lovers  of  all  the  world  but  a 
few  hours  before,  contemplate,  far  less  permit,  a  sepa- 
ration of  years  ?  Poor  Concha  groped  toward  the  great 
unacceptable  fact  of  life  the  whole,  lit  by  love  its 
chief  incident;  and  had  a  fleeting  vision  of  the  waste 
lands  in  the  lives  of  women  occupied  only  with  matri- 
mony. But  she  dropped  her  lashes  upon  this  unalluring 
vision,  and  as  she  did  so,  inevitably  she  began  to  excuse 
the  man. 

None  knew  better  than  she  every  side  of  the  great 
question  that  was  shaking  not  only  her  life  but  Cali- 
fornia itself.  Appeal  from  the  dictum  of  state  and 
clergy  would  be  a  mere  waste  of  time.  The  only  alter- 
native was  flight.  That  would  mean  the  wreck  of  Re- 
zanov's  avowed  purposes  in  coming  to  this  quarter  of 
New  Spain,  and  perhaps  of  others  she  dimly  suspected. 
It  would  mean  the  very  acme  of  misery  for  his  Sitkans, 
and  an  indefensible  blow  to  the  Company.  It  might  even 
prove  the  fatal  mistake  in  his  career,  for  which  his 
enemies  were  ever  on  the  alert.  He  was  not  communi- 
cative about  himself  except  when  he  had  an  object  in 
view,  but  he  had  told  her  something  of  his  life,  and  his 
officers  and  Langsdorff  had  told  more.  He  was  no  silly 
caballero  warbling  and  thrumming  at  her  grating  when 


142    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

she  longed  for  sleep,  but  a  man  in  his  forties  whose 
passions  were  in  the  leash  of  a  remarkably  acute  and 
ambitious  brain.  She  even  thrilled  with  pride  in  his 
strength,  for  she  knew  how  he  loved  her;  and  although 
his  part  was  action,  her  stimulated  instincts  taught  her 
that  she  would  rarely  be  long  from  his  mind.  And  what 
was  she  to  seek  to  roll  stumbling  blocks  into  the  career 
of  a  man  like  that  ?  In  this  very  garden,  for  four  long 
days,  she  had  dreamed  exalted  dreams  of  the  manifold 
gifts  she  should  develop  both  for  his  solace  at  home  and 
his  worldly  advancement.  She  had  once  felt  all  a  girl's 
impatience  when  her  mother's  tears  made  her  father's 
departure  on  some  distant  mission  more  difficult  than 
need  be,  and  although  she  knew  now  that  her  capacity 
for  tenderness  was  as  great,  she  resolved  to  mould  her- 
self in  a  larger  shape  than  that. 

But  she  sighed  and  drooped  a  little.  The  burden  of 
woman 's  waiting  seemed  already  to  have  descended  upon 
her.  Two  years  were  long — long.  There  might  be  other 
delays.  He  might  fall  ill;  he  had  been  ill  before  in 
that  barbarous  Russian  north.  And  in  all  that  time  it 
was  doubtful  if  she  received  a  line  from  him,  a  hint 
of  his  welfare.  The  Boston  and  British  skippers  came 
no  more,  and  it  was  certain  that  no  Russian  ship  would 
visit  California  again  until  the  treaty  was  signed  and 
official  news  of  it  had  made  its  slow  way  to  these  utter- 
most shores.  She  had  resented,  in  her  young  ambition 
and  indocility,  the  chance  that  had  stranded  her, 
equipped  for  civilization,  on  this  rim  of  the  world,  but 
never  so  much  as  in  that  moment,  when  she  sat  with 
arrested  breath  and  realized  to  the  full  the  primitive 
conditions  of  a  country  thousands  of  miles  from,  the 
very  outposts  of  Europe,  and  with  never  the  sight  of  a 
letter  that  did  not  come  from  Spain  or  one  of  her 
colonies. 

"Would  that  we  lived  a  generation  later/'  she 
thought  with  a  heavy  sigh.  "Progress  is  almost  auto- 
matic, and  to  a  land  as  fertile  and  desirable  as  this 


REZANOV  143 

the  stream  must  turn  in  due  course.  But  not  in  my 
time.  Not  in  my  time." 

She  rose  and  leaned  her  elbows  in  the  embrasure  of 
the  grille,  where  Santiago  had  restored  the  bars,  and 
looked  out  over  the  fields  of  grain  planted  by  the  padres, 
the  immense  sand  dunes  beyond  that  shut  the  lovely  bay 
from  sight ;  the  hills  embracing  the  primitive  scene  in  a 
frowning  arc.  With  all  her  imagination  it  was  long 
before  she  could  picture  a  great  city  covering  that 
immense  and  almost  desert  space.  A  pueblo  in  time, 
perhaps,  for  Rezanov  had  awakened  her  mind  to  the 
importance  of  the  harbor  as  a  port  of  call.  Many  more 
adobe  homes  where  the  sand  was  not  hot  and  shifting, 
a  few  ships  in  the  bay  when  Spain  had  been  compelled 
to  relax  her  jealous  vigilance — or — who  knew? — per- 
haps!— a  flourishing  colony  when  the  Russian  bear  had 
devoured  the  Spanish  lion.  She  knew  something  and 
suspected  more  of  the  rottenness  and  inefficiency  of 
Spain,  and,  were  Russia  a  nation  of  Rezanovs,  what  op- 
position in  California  against  the  tide  thundering  down 
from  the  north?  Then,  perhaps,  the  city  that  had 
travelled  from  the  brain  of  the  Russian  to  hers  when 
the  fog  had  rolled  over  the  heights;  the  towers  and 
palaces  and  bazaars,  the  thousand  little  golden  domes 
with  the  slender  cross  atop;  the  forts  on  the  crags  and 
the  villas  in  the  hollows,  and  on  all  the  island  and  hills. 
But  when  she  and  her  lover  were  dust.  When  she  and 
her  lover  were  dust. 

But  she  was  too  young  and  too  ardent  to  listen  long 
to  the  ravens  of  the  spirit.  Two  years  are  not  eternity, 
and  in  happiness  the  past  rolls  together  like  a  scroll 
and  is  naught.  She  fell  to  dreaming.  Her  lips  that 
had  been  set  with  the  gravity  of  stone  relaxed  in  warm 
curves.  The  color  came  back  to  her  cheek,  the  light  to 
her  eyes.  She  was  a  girl  at  her  grating  with  the  roses 
poignant  above  her,  and  the  world,  radiant,  alluring, 
and  all  for  her,  swimming  in  the  violet  haze  beyond. 


XXII 

REZANOV  in  those  days  was  literally  lord  and  master 
at  the  Presidio.  If  he  did  not  burn  the  house  of  his 
devoted  host  he  ran  it  to  suit  himself.  He  turned  one 
of  its  rooms  into  an  office,  where  he  received  the  envoys 
from  the  different  Missions  and  examined  the  samples 
of  everything  submitted  to  him,  trusting  little  to  his 
commissary.  His  leisure  he  employed  scouring  the  coun- 
try or  shooting  deer  and  quail  in  the  company  of  his 
younger  hosts.  The  literal  mind  of  Don  Jose  accepted 
him  as  an  actual  son  and  embryonic  Californian,  and, 
his  conscience  at  peace,  revelled  in  his  society  as  a  sign 
from  propitiated  heaven;  rejoicing  in  the  virtue  of  his 
years.  The  Governor,  testily  remarking  that  as  Califor- 
nia was  so  well  governed  for  the  present  he  would  retire 
to  Monterey  and  take  a  siesta,  rode  off  one  morning, 
but  not  without  an  affectionate :  '  i  God  preserve  the  life 
of  your  excellency  many  years. " 

But  although  Eezanov  saw  the  most  sanguine  hopes 
that  had  brought  him  to  California  fulfilled,  and  al- 
though he  looked  from  the  mountain  ridges  of  the  east 
over  the  great  low  valleys  watered  by  rivers  and  shaded 
by  oaks,  where  enough  grain  could  be  raised  to  keep 
the  blood  red  in  a  thousand  times  the  colonial  popula- 
tion of  Eussia,  although  he  felt  himself  in  more  and 
more  abundant  health,  more  and  more  in  love  with  life, 
it  is  not  to  be  supposed  for  a  moment  that  he  was  satis- 
fied. Concha  he  barely  saw.  She  remained  with  the 
Moragas,  and  although  she  came  occasionally  to  the 
afternoon  dances  at  the  Presidio,  and  he  had  dined  once 
at  her  cousin's  house,  where  the  formal  betrothal  had 
taken  place  and  the  marriage  contract  had  been  signed 
in  the  presence  of  her  family  and  more  intimate  friends, 


REZANOV  145 

the  priests,  his  officers,  and  the  Governor,  he  had  not 
spoken  with  her  for  a  moment  alone.  Nor  had  her  eyes 
met  his  in  a  glance  of  understanding.  At  the  dances 
she  showed  him  no  favor;  and  as  the  engagement  was 
to  be  as  secret  as  might  be  in  that  small  community, 
until  his  return  with  consent  of  Pope  and  King,  he  was 
forced  to  concede  that  her  conduct  was  irreproachable; 
but  when  on  the  day  of  the  betrothal  she  was  oblivious 
to  his  efforts  to  draw  her  into  the  garden,  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  off  in  a  huff. 

The  truth  was  that  Concha  liked  the  present  arrange- 
ment no  better  than  himself,  and  knowing  that  her  own 
appeal  against  the  proprieties  would  result  in  a  deeper 
seclusion,  she  determined  to  goad  him  into  using  every 
resource  of  address  and  subtlety  to  bring  about  a  more 
human  state  of  affairs.  And  she  accomplished  her  ob- 
ject. Rezanov,  at  the  end  of  a  week,  was  not  only 
infuriated  but  alarmed.  He  knew  the  imagination  of 
woman,  and  guessed  that  Concha,  in  her  brooding  soli- 
tude, distorted  all  that  was  unfortunate  in  the  present 
and  dwelt  morbidly  on  the  future.  He  knew  that  she 
must  resent  his  part  in  the  long  separation,  no  doubt 
his  lack  of  impulsiveness  in  not  proposing  elopement. 
There  was  a  priest  in  his  company  who,  although  he  ate 
below  the  salt  and  found  his  associates  among  the  sailors, 
could  have  performed  the  ceremony  of  marriage  when 
the  Juno,  under  full  sail  in  the  night,  was  scudding  for 
the  Russian  north.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  this 
romantic  alternative  appealed  to  Rezanov,  and  had  it 
not  been  for  the  starving  wretches  so  eagerly  awaiting 
his  coming  he  might  have  been  tempted  to  throw  com- 
mercial relations  to  the  winds  and  flee  with  his  bride 
while  San  Francisco,  secure  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
Juno's  empty  hold,  was  in  its  first  heavy  sleep.  It  is 
doubtful  if  he  would  have  advanced  beyond  impulse, 
for  Rezanov  was  not  the  man  to  lose  sight  of  a  purpose 
to  which  he  had  set  the  full  strength  of  his  talents, 
and  life  had  tempered  his  impetuous  nature  with  much 
philosophy.  Moreover,  while  his  conscience  might  ignore 


146    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  double  dealing  necessary  to  the  accomplishment  of 
patriotic  or  political  acts,  it  revolted  at  the  idea  of 
outwitting,  possibly  wrecking,  his  trusting  and  hospita- 
ble host.  But  the  mere  fact  that  his  imagination  could 
dwell  upon  such  an  issue  as  reckless  flight,  inflamed 
his  impatience,  and  his  desire  to  see  Concha  daily  during 
these  last  few  weeks  of  propinquity.  Finally  he  sought 
the  co-operation  of  Father  Abella,  and  that  wise  student 
of  maids  and  men  gave  him  cheer. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  there  was  to  take  place  the 
long  delayed  Indian  dance  and  bull-bear  fight;  not  in 
the  Presidio,  but  at  the  Mission,  the  pride  of  the  friars 
inciting  them  to  succeed  where  the  military  authorities 
had  failed.  All  the  little  world  of  San  Francisco  had 
been  invited,  and  it  would  be  strange  if  in  the  con- 
fusion between  performance  and  supper  a  lover  could 
not  find  a  moment  alone  with  his  lady. 

The  elements  were  kind  to  the  padres.  The  after- 
noon was  not  too  hot,  although  the  sun  flooded  the  plain 
and  there  was  not  a  cloud  on  the  dazzling  blue  of  the 
sky.  Never  had  the  Mission  and  the  mansions  looked 
so  white,  their  tiles  so  red.  The  trees  were  blossoming 
pink  and  white  in  the  orchards,  the  lightest  breeze  rip- 
pled the  green  of  the  fields;  and  into  this  valley  came 
neither  the  winds  nor  the  fogs  of  the  ocean. 

The  priests  and  their  guests  of  honor  sat  on  the  long 
corridor  beside  the  church;  the  soldiers,  sailors,  and 
Indians  of  Presidio  and  Mission  forming  the  other  three 
sides  of  a  hollow  square.  The  Indian  women  were  a 
blaze  of  color.  The  ladies  on  the  corridor  wore  their 
mantillas,  jewels,  and  the  gayest  of  artificial  flowers. 
There  were  as  many  fans  as  women.  Eezanov  sat  be- 
tween Father  Abella  and  the  Commandante,  and  not 
being  in  the  best  of  tempers  had  never  looked  more 
imposing  and  remote.  Concha,  leaning  against  one  of 
the  pillars,  stole  a  glance  at  him  and  wondered  miserably 
if  this  haughty  European  had  really  sought  her  hand, 
if  it  were  not  a  girl's  foolish  dream.  But  Concha's 
humble  moments  at  this  period  of  her  life  were  rare, 


REZANOV  147 

and  she  drew  herself  up  proudly,  the  blood  of  the 
proudest  race  in  Europe  shaking  angrily  in  her  veins. 
A  moment  later,  in  response  to  a  power  greater  than 
any  within  herself,  she  turned  again.  The  attention  of 
the  hosts  and  guests  was  riveted  upon  the  preliminary 
antics  of  the  Indian  dancers,  and  Rezanov  seized  the 
opportunity  to  lean  forward  unobserved  and  gaze  at  the 
girl  whom  it  seemed  to  him  he  saw  for  the  first  time  in 
the  full  splendor  of  her  beauty.  She  wore  a  large 
mantilla  of  white  Spanish  lace.  In  the  fashion  of  the 
day  it  rose  at  the  back  almost  from  the  hem  of  her  gown 
to  descend  in  a  point  over  the  high  comb  to  her  eyes. 
The  two  points  of  the  width  were  gathered  at  her 
breast,  defining  the  outlines  of  her  superb  figure,  and 
fastened  with  one  large  Castilian  rose  surrounded  by  its 
mass  of  tiny  sharp  buds  and  dull  green  leaves.  As  the 
familiar  scent  assailed  Rezanov 's  nostrils  they  tingled 
and  expanded.  His  lids  were  lifted  and  his  eyes  glow- 
ing as  he  finally  compelled  her  glance,  and  her  own 
eyes  opened  with  an  eager  flash ;  her  lips  parted  and  her 
shoulders  lost  their  haughty  poise.  For  a  moment  their 
gaze  lingered  in  a  perfect  understanding;  his  ill-humor 
vanished,  and  he  leaned  back  with  a  complimentary 
remark  as  Father  Abella  directed  his  attention  to  the 
most  agile  of  the  Indians. 

The  swart  natives  of  both  sexes  with  their  thick  fea- 
tures and  long  hair  were  even  more  hideous  than  usual 
in  bandeaux  of  bright  feathers,  scant  garments  made 
from  the  breasts  of  water-fowls,  rattling  strings  of 
shells,  and  tattooing  on  arm  and  leg  no  longer  concealed 
by  the  decorous  Mission  smock.  Rezanov  had  that  day 
sent  them  presents  of  glass  beads  and  ribbons,  and  in 
these  they  took  such  extravagant  pride  that  for  some 
time  their  dancing  was  almost  automatic. 

But  soon  their  blood  warmed,  and  after  the  first  dance, 
which  was  merely  a  series  of  measured  springs  on  the 
part  of  the  men  and  a  beating  of  time  by  the  women, 
a  large  straw  figure  symbolizing  an  entire  hostile  tribe 
was  brought  in,  and  about  this  pranced  the  men  with 


148    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  .CAME 

savage  cries  and  gestures,  advancing,  attacking,  retreat- 
ing, finally  piercing  it  with  their  arrows  and  marching 
it  off  with  sharp  yells  of  triumph  that  reverberated 
among  the  hills;  the  women  never  varying  from  a  loud 
monotonous  chant. 

There  was  a  peaceful  interlude,  during  which  the 
men,  holding  bow  and  arrow  aloft,  hopped  up  and  down 
on  one  spot,  the  women  hopping  beside  them  and  snap- 
ping thumb  and  forefinger  on  the  body,  still  singing 
in  the  same  high  measured  voice.  But  while  they  danced 
a  great  bonfire  was  laid  and  kindled.  The  gyrations 
lasted  a  few  moments  longer,  then  the  chief  seized  a 
live  ember  and  swallowed  it.  His  example  was  imme- 
diately followed  by  his  tribe,  and,  whether  to  relieve 
discomfort  or  with  energies  but  quickened,  they  exe- 
cuted a  series  of  incredible  handsprings  and  acrobatic 
capers.  When  they  finally  whirled  away  on  toes  and 
finger  tips,  another  chief,  in  the  horns  and  hide  of  a 
deer,  rushed  in,  pursued  by  a  party  of  hunters.  For 
several  moments  he  perfectly  simulated  a  hunted  ani- 
mal lurking  and  dodging  in  high  grass,  behind  trees, 
venturing  to  the  brink  of  a  stream  to  drink,  searching 
eagerly  for  his  mate;  and  when  he  finally  escaped  it 
was  amidst  the  most  enthusiastic  plaudits  as  yet  evoked. 

After  an  hour  of  this  varied  performance,  the  square 
was  enlarged  by  several  mounted  vaqueros  galloping 
about  with  warning  cries  and  much  flourishing  of  lassos. 
They  were  the  cattle  herders  of  the  Mission  ranch  just 
over  the  hills,  and  were  in  gala  attire  of  black  glazed 
sombrero  with  silver  cord,  white  shirt  open  at  the 
throat,  short  black  velvet  trousers  laced  with  silver,  red 
sash  and  high  yellow  boots.  Four,  pistol  in  hand,  sta- 
tioned themselves  in  front  of  the  corridor,  while  the 
others  rode  out  and  in  again,  dragging  a  bear  and  a 
bull,  with  hind  legs  attached  by  two  yards  of  rope.  The 
captors  left  the  captives  in  the  middle  of  the  square, 
and  without  more  ado  the  serious  sport  of  the  day  began. 
The  bull,  with  stomach  empty  and  hide  inflamed,  rushed 
at  the  bear,  furious  from  captivity,  with  such  a  roar 


REZANOV  149 

that  the  Indian  women  screamed  and  even  the  men  shuf- 
fled their  feet  uneasily.  But  neither  combatant  was 
interested  in  aught  but  the  other.  The  one  sought  to 
gore,  his  enemy  to  strike  or  hug.  The  vaqueros  teased 
them  with  arrows  and  cries,  the  dust  flew;  for  a  few 
moments  there  was  but  a  heaving,  panting,  lashing  bulk 
in  the  middle  of  the  arena,  and  then  the  bull,  his  tongue 
torn  out,  rolled  on  his  back,  and  another  was  driven  in 
before  the  victor  could  wreak  his  unsated  vengeance 
among  the  spectators.  The  bear,  dragging  the  dead  bull, 
rushed  at  the  living,  who,  unmartial  at  first,  stiffened 
to  the  defensive  as  he  saw  a  bulk  of  wiry  fur  set  with 
eyes  of  fire,  almost  upon  him.  He  sprung  aside,  lowered 
his  horns,  and  caught  the  bear  in  the  chest.  But  the 
victor  was  a  compact  mass  of  battle  and  momentum.  His 
onslaught  flung  the  bear  over  backward,  and  quickly 
disengaging  himself  he  made  another  leap  at  his  equally 
agile  enemy.  This  time  the  battle  was  longer  and  more 
various,  for  the  bull  was  smaller,  more  active  and  dex- 
terous. Twice  he  almost  had  the  bear  on  his  horns, 
but  was  rolled,  only  saving  his  neck  and  back  from  the 
fury  of  the  mountain  beast,  by  such  a  kicking  and  leap- 
ing that  both  combatants  were  indistinguishable  from 
the  whirlwind  of  dust.  Out  of  this  they  would  emerge 
to  stand  panting  in  front  of  each  other  with  tongues 
pendant  and  red  eyes  rolling.  Finally  the  bear,  nearly 
exhausted,  made  a  sudden  charge,  the  bull  leaped  aside, 
back  again  with  incredible  swiftness,  caught  the  bear  in 
the  belly,  tossed  him  so  high  that  he  met  the  hard  earth 
with  a  loud  cracking  of  bone.  The  vaqueros  circled 
about  the  maddened  bull,  set  his  hide  thick  with  arrows, 
tripped  him  with  the  lasso.  A  wiry  little  Mexican  in 
yellow,  galloping  in  on  his  mustang,  administered  the 
coup  de  grace  amidst  the  wild  applause  of  the  specta- 
tors, whose  shouting  and  clapping  and  stamping  might 
have  been  heard  by  the  envious  guard  at  the  Presidio 
and  Yerba  Buena. 

As  the  party  on  the  corridor  broke,  Rezanov  found  no 
difficulty   in  reaching   Concha's  side,  for  even  Dona 


150    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Ignacia  was  chattering  wildly  with  several  other  good 
dames  who  renewed  their  youth  briefly  at  the  bull- 
fight. 

"Did  you  enjoy  that?"  he  asked  curiously. 

"I  did  not  look  at  it.  I  never  do.  But  I  know  that 
you  were  not  affronted.  You  never  took  your  eyes 
from  those  dreadful  beasts." 

"I  am  exhilarated  to  know  that  you  watched  me. 
Yes,  at  a  bull-fight  the  primitive  man  in  me  has  its 
way,  although  I  have  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  of  myself 
afterward.  In  that  I  am  at  least  one  degree  more  civ- 
ilized than  your  race,  which  never  repents. ' ' 

The  door  of  one  of  the  smaller  rooms  stood  open, 
and  as  they  took  advantage  of  this  oversight  with  a 
singular  concert  of  motive,  he  clasped  both  her  hands 
in  his.  ' '  Are  you  angry  with  me  ? "  he  asked  softly.  He 
dared  not  close  the  door,  but  his  back  was  square  against 
it,  and  the  other  guests  were  moving  down  to  the 
refectory. 

"For  liking  such  horrid  sport?" 

' l  We  have  no  time  to  waste  in  coquetry. ' ' 

Her  eyes  melted,  but  she  could  not  resist  planting  a 
dart.  ' '  Not  now — I  quite  understand :  love  could  never 
be  first  with  you.  And  two  years  are  not  so  long.  They 
quickly  pass  when  one  is  busy.  I  shall  find  occupation, 
and  you  will  have  no  time  for  longings  and  regrets." 

They  were  not  yet  alone,  women  were  talking  in  their 
light  high  voices  not  a  yard  away.  The  hindrance,  and 
her  new  loveliness  in  the  soft  mantilla,  the  pink  of  the 
roses  reflected  in  her  throat,  the  provocative  curl  of  her 
mouth,  sent  the  blood  to  his  head. 

"You  have  only  to  say  the  word,"  he  said  hoarsely, 
"and  the  Juno  will  sail  to-night." 

Never  before  had  she  seen  his  face  so  unmasked. 
Her  voice  shook  in  triumph  and  response. 

' '  Would  you  ?    Would  y ou  1 " 

"Say  the  word!" 

"You  would  sacrifice  all — the  Company — your  career 
— your  Sitkans?" 


REZANOV  151 

"All — everything/'  His  own  voice  shook  with  more 
than  passion,  for  even  in  that  moment  he  counted  the 
cost,  but  he  did  not  care. 

But  Concha  detected  that  second  break  in  his  voice, 
and  turned  her  head  sadly. 

"You  would  not  say  that  to-morrow.  I  hate  myself 
that  I  made  you  say  it  now.  I  love  you  enough  to 
wait  forever,  but  I  have  not  the  courage  to  hand  you 
over  to  your  enemies.'1 

"You  are  strangely  far-sighted  for  a  young  girl." 
And  between  admiration  and  pique,  his  ardor  suffered 
a  chill. 

"I  am  no  longer  a  young  girl.  In  these  last  days 
it  has  seemed  to  me  that  secrets  locked  in  my  brain, 
secrets  of  women  long  dead,  but  of  whose  essence  I 
am,  have  come  forth  to  the  light.  I  have  suffered  in 
anticipation.  My  mind  has  flown — flown — I  have  lived 
those  two  years  until  they  are  twenty,  thirty,  and  I 
have  lived  on  into  old  age  here  by  the  sea,  watching, 
watching " 

She  had  dropped  all  pretence  of  coquetry  and  was 
speaking  with  a  passionate  forlornness.  But  before  he 
could  interrupt  her,  take  advantage  of  the  retreating 
voices  that  left  them  alone  at  last,  she  had  drawn  her- 
self up  and  moved  a  step  away.  "Do  not  think,  how- 
ever," she  said  proudly,  "that  I  am  really  as  weak 
and  silly  as  that.  It  was  only  a  mood.  Should  you 
not  return  I  should  grieve,  yes;  and  should  I  live  as 
long  as  is  common  with  my  race,  still  would  my  heart 
remain  young  with  your  image,  and  with  the  fidelity 
that  would  be  no  less  a  religion  than  that  of  my  church. 
But  I  should  not  live  a  selfish  life,  or  I  should  be  un- 
worthy of  my  election  to  experience  a  great  and  eternal 
passion.  Memory  and  the  life  of  the  imagination  would 
be  my  solace,  possibly  in  time  my  happiness,  but  my 
days  I  should  give  to  this  poor  little  world  of  ours; 
and  all  that  one  mortal,  and  that  a  woman,  has  to 
bestow  upon  a  stranded  and  benighted  people.  It  may 


152    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

not  be  much,  but  I  make  you  that  promise,  senor,  that 
you  will  not  think  me  a  foolish  romantic  girl  unworthy 
of  the  great  responsibilities  you  have  offered  me." 

"Concha!"  He  was  deeply  moved,  and  at  the  same 
time  her  words  chilled  him  with  subtle  prophecy,  sank 
into  some  unexplored  depth  of  his  consciousness,  meet- 
ing response  as  subtle,  filling  him  with  a  rush  of  angry 
impatience  at  the  mortality  of  man.  He  glanced  over 
his  shoulder,  then  took  her  recklessly  in  his  arms. 

"Is  it  possible  you  doubt  I  will  come  back?"  he 
demanded.  "My  faith?" 

"No,  not  that.  But  such  happiness  seems  to  me  too 
great  for  this  life." 

He  remembered  how  often  he  had  been  close  to  death  ; 
he  knew  that  during  the  greater  part  of  the  next  two 
years  he  should  see  the  glimmer  of  the  scythe  oftener 
yet.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  felt  the 
dark  waters  rise  in  his  soul,  heard  the  jeers  of  the  gods 
at  the  vanity  of  mortal  will.  But  the  blood  ran  strong 
and  warm  in  his  veins.  He  shook  off  the  obsession,  and 
smiled  a  little  cynically,  even  as  he  kissed  her. 

"This  is  the  hour  for  romance,  my  dear.  In  the 
years  to  come,  when  you  are  very  prosaically  my  wife 
with  a  thousand  duties,  and  grumbling  at  my  exactions, 
your  consolation  will  be  the  memory  of  some  moment 
like  this,  when  you  were  able  to  feel  romantic  and  sad. 
I  wish  I  could  arrange  for  some  such  set  of  memories 
for  myself,  but  I  am  unequal  to  your  divine  melan- 
choly. "When  I  cannot  see  you  I  am  cross  and  sulky; 
and  just  now — I  am,  well — philosophically  happy. 
Some  day  I  shall  be  happier,  but  this  is  well  enough. 
And  I  can  harbor  no  ugly  presentiments.  As  I  entered 
California  I  was  elated  with  a  sense  of  coming  happi- 
ness, of  future  victories;  and  I  prefer  to  dwell  upon 
that,  the  more  particularly  as  in  a  measure  the  pro- 
phetic hint  has  been  fulfilled.  So  make  the  most  of  the 
present.  I  shall  see  you  daily  during  this  last  precious 
fortnight,  for  I  am  determined  this  arrangement  shall 


REZANOV  153 

cease;  and  you  must  exorcise  coquetry  and  abet  me 
whenever  there  is  a  chance  of  a  word  alone." 

She  nodded,  but  she  noted  with  a  sigh  that  he  said 
no  more  of  sudden  flight.  She  would  never  have  con- 
sented to  jeopardize  the  least  of  his  interests,  but  she 
fain  would  have  been  besought.  The  experience  she 
had  had  of  the  vehemence  and  fire  in  Rezanov  made  her 
long  for  his  complete  subjugation  and  the  happiness 
it  must  bring  to  herself.  But  as  he  smiled  tenderly 
above  her  she  saw  that  his  practical  brain  had  silenced 
the  irresponsible  demands  of  love,  and  although  she 
did  not  withdraw  from  his  arms  she  stiffened  her  head. 

"I  fancy  I  shall  return  home  to-morrow,"  she  said. 
"My  mother  tells  me  that  she  can  live  without  me  no 
longer,  and  that  Father  Abella  has  reminded  her  that 
if  I  stay  in  the  house  of  Elena  Castro  I  shall  be  as  free 
from  gossip  as  here.  I  infer  that  he  has  rated  my  two 
parents  for  making  a  martyr  of  me  unnecessarily,  and 
told  them  it  was  a  duty  to  enliven  my  life  as  much  as 
possible  before  I  enter  upon  this  long  period  of  proba- 
tion. The  grating  of  my  room  at  Elena's  is  above  ai 
little  strip  of  garden,  and  faces  the  blank  wall  of  the 
next  house.  Sometimes — who  knows?"  She  shrugged 
her  shoulders  and  gave  a  gay  little  laugh,  then  stood 
very  erect  and  moved  past  him  to  the  door.  She  had 
recognized  the  shuffling  step  of  Father  Abella. 

"Is  supper  ready,  padre  mio?"  she  asked  sweetly. 
"His  excellency  and  I  have  talked  so  much  that  we  are 
very  hungry." 

' '  There  is  no  need  to  deceive  me, ' '  said  Father  Abella 
dryly.  "You  are  not  the  first  lovers  I  have  known, 
although  I  will  admit  you  are  by  far  the  most  interest- 
ing, and  for  that  reason  I  have  had  the  wickedness  to 
abet  you.  But  I  fancy  the  good  God  will  forgive  me. 
Come  quickly.  They  are  scattered  now,  but  will  go  to 
the  refectory  in  a  moment  and  miss  you.  Excellency, 
will  you  give  your  arm  to  Dona  Ignacia  and  take  the 
seat  at  the  head  of  the  table  I  .Concha,  my  child,  I  am 


154    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

afraid  you  must  console  our  good  Don  "Weeliam.  He 
is  having  a  wretched  quarter  of  an  hour,  but  has  loyally 
diverted  the  attention  of  your  mother. " 

"That  is  the  vocation  of  certain  men/'  said  Concha 
lightly. 


XXIII 

LITE  was  very  gay  for  a  fortnight.  rAn  hour  after  the 
Commandante  's  surrender  he  had  despatched  invita- 
tions to  all  the  young  folk  of  the  gente  de  razon  of 
Monterey,  Santa  Barbara,  Los  Angeles,  and  San  Diego, 
and  to  such  of  the  older  as  would  brave  the  long  jour- 
neys. The  Monterenos  had  arrived  for  the  Mission  enter- 
tainment, and  during  the  next  few  days  the  rest  poured 
over  the  hills:  De  la  Guerras,  Ximenos,  Estudillos, 
Carrillos,  Estenegas,  Morenos,  Cofas,  Estradas,  Picos, 
Pachecos,  Lugos,  Ortegas,  Alvarados,  Bandinis,  Peraltas, 
members  of  the  Luis,  Rodriguez,  Lopez  families,  all  of 
gentle  blood,  that  made  up  the  society  of  Old  California ; 
as  gay,  arcadian,  irresponsible,  yet  moral  a  society  as 
ever  fluttered  over  this  planet.  Every  house  in  the 
Presidio  and  valley,  every  spare  room  at  the  Mission, 
opened  to  them  with  the  exuberant  hospitality  of  the 
country.  The  caballeros  had  their  finest  wardrobes  of 
colored  silks  and  embroidered  botas,  sombreros  laden 
with  silver,  fine  lawn  and  lace,  jewel  and  sash,  velvet 
serape  for  the  chill  of  the  late  afternoon.  The  matrons 
brought  their  stiff  robes  of  red  and  yellow  satin,  the 
girls  as  many  flowered  silk  and  lawns,  mantillas  and 
rebosos,  as  the  family  carretas  would  hold.  The  square 
of  the  Presidio  was  crowded  from  morning  until  mid- 
night with  the  spirited  horses  of  the  country,  prancing 
impatiently  under  the  heavy  Mexican  saddle,  heavier 
with  silver,  made  a  trifle  more  endurable  by  the  blanket 
of  velvet  or  cloth.  No  Californian  walked  a  dozen  rods 
when  he  had  a  horse  to  carry  him. 

But  the  horses  were  not  always  champing  in  the 
square.  There  was  more  than  one  bull-bear  fight,  and 
twice  a  week  at  least  they  carried  their  owners  to  the 

155 


156    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

hills  of  the  Mission  ranch,  or  the  rocky  cliffs  and  gorges 
above  Yerba  Buena,  the  Indian  servants  following  with 
great  baskets  of  luncheon,  perhaps  roasting  an  ox  whole 
in  a  trench.  This  the  Californians  called  barbecue  and 
the  picnic  merienda. 

There  was  dancing  day  and  night,  the  tinkling  of 
guitars,  flirting  of  fans.  Rezanov  vowed  he  would  not 
have  believed  there  were  so  many  fans  and  guitars  in 
the  world,  and  suddenly  remembered  he  had  never  seen 
Concha  with  either.  The  lady  of  his  choice  reigned 
supreme.  Many  had  taken  the  long  blistering  journey 
for  no  other  purpose  than  to  see  the  famous  beauty 
and  her  Russian ;  the  engagement  was  as  well  known  as 
if  cried  from  the  Mission  top.  The  girls  were  surprised 
and  delighted  to  find  Concha  sweet  rather  than  proud 
and  envied  her  with  amiable  enthusiasm.  The  caballeros, 
fewer  in  number,  for  most  of  the  men  in  California 
at  that  period  before  a  freer  distribution  of  land  were 
on  duty  in  the  army,  artfully  ignored  the  unavowed 
bond,  but  liked  Rezanov  when  he  took  the  trouble  to 
charm  them. 

Khostov  and  Davidov  watched  the  loading  of  the 
Juno  with  a  lively  regret.  Never  had  they  enjoyed 
themselves  more,  nor  seen  so  many  pretty  girls  in  one 
place.  Both  had  begun  by  falling  in  love  with  Concha, 
and  although  they  rebounded  swiftly  from  the  blow 
to  their  hopes,  it  happily  saved  them  from  a  more  serious 
dilemma;  unwealthed  and  graceless  as  they  were,  they 
would  have  been  regarded  with  little  favor  by  the  prac- 
tical California  father.  As  it  was,  their  pleasures  were 
unpoisoned  by  regrets  or  rebuffs.  When  they  were  not 
flirting  in  the  dance  or  in  front  of  a  lattice,  receiving 
a  lesson  in  Spanish  behind  the  portly  back  of  a  dueiia, 
or  clasping  brown  little  fingers  under  cover  of  a  fan 
when  all  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  death  struggle  of  a 
bull  and  a  bear,  they  were  playing  cards  and  drinking 
in  the  officers'  quarters;  which  they  liked  almost  as 
well.  It  is  true  they  sometimes  paid  the  price  in  a 
cutting  rebuke  from  their  chief,  but  the  rebukes  were 


REZANOV  157 

not  as  frequent  as  in  less  toward  circumstances,  and 
were  generally  followed  by  some  fresh  indulgence. 
This,  they  uneasily  guessed,  was  not  only  the  result  of 
the  equable  state  of  his  excellency 's  temper,  but  because 
he  had  a  signal  unpleasantness  in  store,  and  would  not 
hazard  their  resignation.  They  had  taken  advantage  of 
an  imperial  ukase  to  enter  the  service  of  the  Russian- 
American  Company  temporarily,  and  they  knew  that  if 
they  evaded  any  behest  of  Rezanov's  their  adventurous 
life  in  the  Pacific  would  be  over.  Therefore,  although 
they  resented  his  implacable  will,  they  pulled  with  him 
in  outward  amity;  and  indeed  there  were  few  of  the 
Juno's  human  freight  that  did  not  look  back  upon  that 
California  springtime  as  the  episode  of  their  lives,  com- 
monly stormy  or  monotonous,  in  which  the  golden  tide 
flowed  with  least  alloy.  Even  Langsdorff,  although  im- 
pervious to  female  charms  and  with  scientific  thirst 
unslaked,  enjoyed  the  Spanish  fare  and  the  society  of 
the  priests.  The  sailors  received  many  privileges,  at- 
tended bull-fights  and  fandangos,  loved  and  pledged; 
and  were  only  restrained  from  emigration  to  the  interior 
of  this  enchanted  land  of  pretty  girls  and  plentiful  food 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  sure  and  merciless  vengeance 
of  their  chief.  Had  the  rumor  of  war  still  held  it 
might  have  been  otherwise,  but  that  raven  had  flown 
off  to  the  limbo  of  its  kind,  and  the  Commandante  let 
it  be  known  that  deserters  would  be  summarily  captured 
and  sent  in  irons  to  the  Juno. 

In  the  mind  of  Concha  Argiiello  there  was  never  a 
lingering  doubt  of  the  quality  of  that  fortnight  between 
the  days  of  torturing  doubts  and  acute  emotional  up- 
heaval, and  the  sailing  away  of  Eezanov.  It  was  true 
that  what  he  banteringly  termed  her  romantic  sadness 
possessed  her  at  times,  but  it  served  as  a  shadow  to 
throw  into  sharper  relief  an  almost  incredible  happiness. 
If  she  seldom  saw  Rezanov  alone  there  was  the  less  to 
disturb  her,  and  at  least  he  was  never  far  from  her  side. 
There  were  always  the  delight  of  unexpected  moments 
unseen,  whispered  words  in  the  crowd,  the  sense  of 


158    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

complete  understanding,  broken  now  and  again  by 
poignant  attacks  of  unreasoning  jealousy,  not  only  on 
her  part  but  his;  quite  worth  the  reconciliation  at  the 
lattice,  while  Elena  Castro,  gentle  duena,  pitched  her 
voice  high  and  amused  her  husband  so  well  he  sought 
no  opportunity  for  response. 

Then  there  was  more  than  one  excursion  about  the 
bay  on  the  Juno,  dinner  on  La  Bellissima  or  Nuestra 
Senora  de  los  Angeles,  a  long  return  after  sundown 
that  the  southerners  might  appreciate  the  splendor  of 
the  afterglow  when  the  blue  of  the  water  was  reflected 
in  the  lower  sky,  to  melt  into  the  pink  fire  above,  and 
all  the  land  swam  in  a  pearly  mist. 

Once  the  Commandante  took  twenty  of  his  guests,  a 
gay  cavalcade,  to  his  rancho,  El  Pilar,  thirty  miles  to 
the  south:  a  long  valley  flanked  by  the  bay  and  the 
eastern  mountains  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  high  range 
dense  with  forests  of  tall  thin  trees  on  the  other.  But 
the  valley  itself  was  less  Californian  than  any  part  of 
the  country  Rezanov  had  seen.  Smooth  and  flat  and 
free  of  undergrowth  and  set  with  at  least  ten  thousand 
oaks,  it  looked  more  like  a  splendid  English  park,  long 
preserved,  than  the  recent  haunt  of  naked  savages. 
There  were  deer  and  quail  in  abundance,  here  and  there 
an  open  field  of  grain.  Long  beards  of  pale  green 
moss  waved  from  the  white  oaks,  wild  flowers,  golden 
red  and  pale  blue,  burst  underfoot.  There  were  hedges 
of  sweet  briar,  acres  of  lupins,  purple  and  yellow.  Alto- 
gether the  ideal  estate  of  a  nobleman;  and  Rezanov, 
who  had  liked  nothing  in  California  so  well,  gave  his 
imagination  rein  and  saw  the  counterpart  of  the  castle 
of  his  ancestors  rise  in  the  deep  shade  of  the  trees. 

Don  Jose's  house  was  a  long  rambling  adobe,  red 
tiled,  with  many  bedrooms  and  one  immense  hall. 
Beyond  were  a  chapel  and  a  dozen  outbuildings.  Din- 
ner was  served  in  patriarchal  style  in  the  hall,  the 
Commandante — or  El  padrone  as  he  was  known  here — 
and  his  guests  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table ;  below  the 
salt,  the  vaqueros,  their  wives  and  children,  and  the 


REZANOV  159 

humble  friar  who  drove  them  to  prayer  night  and 
morning.  The  friar  wore  his  brown  robes,  the  vaqueros 
their  black  and  silver  and  red  in  honor  of  the  company, 
their  women  glaring  handkerchiefs  of  green  or  red  or 
yellow  about  their  necks,  even  pinned  back  and  front 
on  their  shapeless  garments;  and  affording  a  fine  vege- 
table garden  contrast  to  the  delicate  flower  bed  surround- 
ing the  padrone. 

There  was  a  race  track  on  the  ranch  and  many  fine 
horses.  After  siesta  the  company  mounted  fresh  steeds 
and  rode  off  to  applaud  the  feats  of  the  vaqueros,  who, 
not  content  with  climbing  the  greased  pole,  wrenching 
the  head  of  an  unfortunate  rooster  from  his  buried 
body  as  they  galloped  by,  submitting  the  tail  of  an  oiled 
pig  in  full  flight  to  the  same  indignity,  gave  when  these 
and  other  native  diversions  were  exhausted,  such  exhibi- 
tions of  riding  and  racing  as  have  never  been  seen  out 
of  California.  As  lithe  as  willow  wands,  on'  slender 
horses  as  graceful  as  themselves,  they  looked  like  meteors 
springing  through  space,  and  there  was  no  trick  of  the 
circus  they  did  not  know  by  instinct,  and  translate  from 
gymnastics  into  poetry.  Even  Rezanov  shared  the  excite- 
ment of  the  shouting  clapping  Californians,  and  Concha 
laughed  delightedly  when  his  cap  waved  with  the  som- 
breros. 

"I  think  you  will  make  a  good  Calif ornian  in  time," 
she  said  as  they  rode  homeward. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Rezanov  musingly.  His  eyes  roved 
over  the  magnificent  estate  and  at  the  moment  they 
entered  a  portion  of  it  that  deepened  to  woods,  so  dense 
was  the  undergrowth,  so  thick  the  oak  trees.  Here 
there  was  but  a  glimpse,  now  rnd  again,  of  the  moun- 
tains swimming  in  the  dark  blue  mist  of  the  late  after- 
noon, the  moss  waved  thickly  from  the  ancient  trees; 
over  even  the  higher  branches  of  many  rolled  a  cascade 
of  small  brittle  leaves,  with  the  tempting  opulence,  _of 
its  poisonous  sap.  The  path  was  very  abrupt,  cut  where 
the  immense  spreading  trees  permitted,  and  Rezanov 


160    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

and  Concha  had  no  difficulty  in  falling  away  from  the 
chattering  excited  company. 

"Tell  me  your  ultimate  plans,  Pedro  mio,"  said 
Concha  softly.  "You  are  dreaming  of  something  this 
moment  beyond  corn  and  treaties." 

"Do  you  want  that  final  proof?"  he  asked,  smiling. 
"Well,  if  I  could  not  trust  you  that  would  be  the  end 
of  everything,  and  I  know  that  I  can.  I  have  long 
regarded  California  as  an  absolutely  necessary  field"  of 
supplies,  and  since  I  have  come  here  I  will  frankly  say 
that  could  I,  as  the  representative  of  the  Tsar  in  all 
this  part  of  the  world,  make  it  practically  my  own, 
I  should  be  content  in  even  a  permanent  exile  from  St. 
Petersburg.  I  could  attract  an  immense  colony  here 
and  in  time  import  libraries  and  works  of  art,  laying 
the  foundation  of  a  great  and  important  city  on  that 
fine  site  about  Yerba  Buena.  But  now  .that  these  kind 
people  have  practically  adopted  me  I  cannot  repay  their 
hospitality  by  any  overt  act  of  hostility.  I  must  be 
content  either  slowly  to  absorb  the  country,  in  which 
case  I  shall  see  no  great  result  in  my  lifetime,  or — and 
for  this  I  hope — what  with  the  mess  Bonaparte  is  mak- 
ing of  Europe,  every  state  may  be  at  the  others'  throat 
before  long,  including  Kussia  and  Spain.  At  all  events, 
a  cause  for  rupture  would  not  be  far  to  seek,  and  it 
would  need  no  instigation  of  mine  to  despatch  a  fleet 
to  these  shores.  In  that  case  I  should  be  sent  with  it 
to  take  possession  in  the  name  of  the  Tsar,  and  to  deal 
with  these  simple,  kind — and  inefficient  people,  my  dear 
girl — as  no  other  Russian  could.  They  cannot  hold  this 
country.  Spain  could  not — would  not,  at  all  events,  for 
she  has  not  troops  enough  here  to  protect  a  territory 
half  its  size — hold  it  against  even  the  l  Americans/ 
should  they  in  time  feel  strong  enough  to  push  their 
way  across  the  western  wilderness.  It  is  the  destiny  of 
this  charming  Arcadia  to  disappear;  and  did  Eussia 
forego  an  opportunity  to  appropriate  a  domain  that 
offers  her  literally  everything  except  civilization,  she 
would  be  unworthy  of  her  place  among  nations.  More- 


REZANOV  161 

over — a  beneficent  triumph  impossible  to  us  otherwise — 
with  a  powerful  and  flourishing  colony  up  and  down  this 
coast,  and  sending  breadstuffs  regularly  to  our  other 
possessions  in  these  waters  until  the  natives,  immigrants, 
and  exiles  were  healthy  vitalized  beings,  it  would  be  but 
a  question  of  a  few  years  before  we  should  force  open 
the  doors  of  China  and  Japan.''  He  caught  Concha 
from  her  horse  and  strained  her  to  him  in  the  mounting 
ardor  of  his  plunge  down  the  future.  "You  must  resent 
nothing !"  he  cried.  "You  must  cease  to  be  a  Spanish 
woman  when  you  become  my  wife,  and  help  me  as  only 
you  can  in  those  inevitable  years  I  have  mapped  out; 
and  not  so  much  for  myself  as  for  Russia.  My  enemies 
have  sought  to  persuade  three  sovereigns  that  I  am  a 
visionary,  but  I  have  already  accomplished  much  that 
met  with  resentment  and  ridicule  when  I  broached  it. 
And  I  know  my  powers !  I  tingle  with  the  knowledge 
of  my  ability  to  carry  to  a  conclusion  every  plan  I  have 
thought  worth  the  holding  when  the  ardor  of  concep- 
tion was  over.  I  swear  to  you  that  death  alone — and 
I  believe  that  nothing  is  further  aloof — shall  prevent 
my  giving  this  country  to  Russia  before  five  years  have 
passed,  and  within  another  brief  span  the  trade  of  China 
and  Japan.  It  is  a  glorious  destiny  for  a  man — one 
man ! — to  pass  into  history  as  the  Russian  of  his  century 
who  has  done  most  to  add  to  the  extent  and  the  wealth 
and  the  power  of  his  empire!  Does  that  sound  vain- 
glorious, and  do  you  resent  it?  You  must  not,  I  tell 
you,  you  must  not!" 

Concha  had  never  seen  him  in  such  a  mood.  Although 
he  held  her  so  closely  that  the  horses  were  angrily 
biting  each  other,  she  felt  that  for  once  there  was  noth- 
ing personal  in  his  ardor.  His  eyes  were  blazing,  but 
they  stared  as  if  a  great  and  prophetic  panorama  had 
risen  in  this  silent  wood,  where  the  long  faded  moss 
hung  as  motionless  as  if  by  those  quiet  waters  that 
even  the  most  ardent  must  cross  in  his  time.  She  felt 
his  heart  beat  as  she  had  felt  it  before  against  her  soft 
breast,  but  she  knew  that  if  he  thought  of  her  at  all  it 


162    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

was  but  as  a  part  of  himself,  not  as  the  woman  he  impa- 
tiently desired.  But  she  was  sensible  of  no  resentment, 
either  for  herself  or  her  race,  which,  indeed,  she  knew 
to  be  but  a  wayfarer  in  the  wilderness  engaged  in  a 
brief  chimerical  enterprise.  For  the  first  time  she  felt 
her  individuality  melt  into,  commingle  with  his:  and 
when  he  lowered  his  gaze,  still  with  that  intensity  of 
vision  piercing  the  future,  her  own  eyes  reflected  the 
impersonalities  of  his ;  and  in  time  he  saw  it. 


XXIV 

"  WE  should  all  wear  black  for  so  mournful  an  occasion/' 
said  Rafaella  Sal,  spreading  out  her  scarlet  skirts. 

' '  Father  Abella  is  right.  The  occasion  is  sad  enough 
without  giving  it  the  air  of  a  funeral." 

"Sad!    Dios  de  ini  ulma!<    Will  lie  return?" 

Elena  Castro  shook  lier  wise  head.  She  was  nearly 
twenty,  and  four  years  of  matrimony  had  made  her 
sceptical  of  man 'c  capacity  for  romance.  "Two  years 
are  long,  and  he  will  see  many  girls,  and  become  one 
again  of  a  life  that  is  always  more  brilliant  than  our 
sun  in  May.  His  eyes  will  be  dazzled,  his  mind  dis- 
tracted, full  to  the  brim.  To  sit  at  table  with  the  Tsar, 
to  talk  with  him  alone  in  his  cabinet,  to  have  for  the 
asking  audience  of  the  Pope  of  Rome  and  the  King  of 
Spain!  Ay  yi!  Ay  yi!  Perhaps  he  will  be  made  a 
prince  when  he  returns  to  St.  Petersburg  and  all  the 
beautiful  princesses  will  want  to  marry  him.  Can  he 
remember  this  poor  little  California,  and  even  our  lovely 
Concha?  I  doubt!  Valgame  Dios,  I  doubt!" 

' '  Concha  has  always  been  too  fortunate, ' '  said  Rafaella 
with  a  touch  of  spite,  for  years  of  waiting  had  tried 
her  temper  and  the  sun  always  freckled  her  nose.  The 
flower  of  California  stood  on  the  corridor  of  the  Mission 
and  before  the  church  awaiting  the  guest  of  honor  and 
his  escort.  A  mass  was  to  be  said  in  behalf  of  the 
departing  guests ;  the  Juno  would  sail  with  the  turn  of 
the  afternoon  tide.  Men  and  women  were  in  their  gayest 
finery,  an  exotic  mass  of  color  against  the  rough  white- 
washed walls,  chattering  as  vivaciously  as  if  the  burden 
of  their  conversation  were  not  regret  for  the  Chamber- 
lain and  his  gay  young  lieutenants.  Concha,  alone,  wore 
no  color ;  her  frock  was  white,  her  mantilla  black.  She 

163 


164    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

stood  somewhat  apart,  but  although  she  was  pale  she 
commanded  her  eyes  to  dwell  absently  on  the  shifting 
sand  far  down  the  valley,  her  haughty  Spanish  profile 
betraying  nothing  of  the  despair  in  her  soul. 

"Yes,  Concha  has  always  been  too  fortunate,"  re- 
peated Rafaella.  "Why  should  she  be  chosen  for  such 
a  destiny — to  go  to  the  Russian  court  and  wear  a  train 
ten  yards  long  of  red  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  a 
white  veil  spangled  with  gold,  a  head-dress  a  foot  high 
set  so  thick  with  jewels  her  head  will  ache  for  a  week — 
Madre  de  Dios!  And  we  stay  here  forever  with  white 
walls,  horsehair  furniture,  Baja  California  pearls  and 
three  silk  dresses  a  year!" 

"No  one  in  all  Russia  will  look  so  grand  in  court 
dress  as  our  Conchita,"  said  Elena  loyally.  "But  I 
doubt  if  it  is  the  dress  and  the  state  she  thinks  of  losing 

to-day.  She  will  not  talk  even  to  me  of  him Ay 

yi!  she  grows  more  reserved  every  day,  our  Concha! — • 
except  to  say  she  will  wed  him  when  he  returns,  and 
that  I  know,  for  did  not  I  witness  the  betrothal?  She 
only  mocks  me  when  I  beg  her  to  tell  me  if  she  loves 
him,  languishes,  or  sings  a  bar  of  some  one  of  our 
beautiful  songs  with  ridiculous  words.  But  she  does. 
She  did  not  sleep  last  night.  Her  room  is  next  to  mine. 
No,  it  is  of  Rezanov  she  thinks,  and  always.  Those 
proud  silent  girls,  who  jest  when  others  would  weep  and 
use  many  words  and  must  die  without  sympathy — 
they  have  tragedy  in  their  souls,  ay  yi !  And  you  think 
she  is  fortunate?  True  she  is  beautiful,  she  is  La  Fa- 
vorita,  she  receives  many  boxes  from  Mexico,  and  she 
has  won  the  love  of  this  Russian.  But — I  have  not 
dared  to  remind  her — I  remembered  it  only  yesterday 
• — she  came  into  this  world  on  the  thirteenth  of  a  month, 
and  he  into  her  life  but  one  day  before  the  thirteenth 
of  another — new  style !  True  some  might  say  that  it  was 
an  escape,  but  if  he  came  on  the  twelfth,  it  was  on  the 
thirteenth  she  began  to  love  him — on  the  night  of  the 
ball;  of  that  I  am  sure." 

Rafaella    shuddered    and    crossed    herself.      "Poor 


REZANOV  165 

Concha !  Perhaps  in  the  end  she  will  always  stand  apart 
like  that.  Truly  she  is  not  as  others.  I  have  always 
said  it.  Thanks  be  to  Mary  it  was  Luis  that  wooed 
me,  not  the  Russian,  for  I  might  have  been  tempted. 
True  his  eyes  are  blue,  and  only  the  black  could  win 
my  heart.  But  the  court  of  St.  Petersburg!  Dios  de 
mi  vida !  Did  I  lie  awake  at  night  and  think  of  Concha 
Argiiello  in  red  velvet  and  jewels  all  over,  I  should  hate 
her.  But  no — to-day — I  cannot.  Two  years!  Have  I 
not  waited  six?  It  is  eternity  when  one  loves  and  is 
young. ' ' 

' '  They  come, ' '  said  Elena. 

The  cavalcade  was  descending  the  sand  hills  on  the 
left,  Eezanov  in  full  uniform  between  the  Comman- 
dante  and  Luis  Argiiello  and  followed  by  a  picked  escort 
of  officers  from  Presidio  and  Fort.  The  Californians 
wore  full-dress  uniform  of  white  and  scarlet,  Don  Jose 
a  blue  velvet  serape,  embroidered  in  gold  with  the  arms 
of  Spain. 

As  they  dismounted  Kezanov  bowed  ceremoniously  to 
the  party  on  the  corridor,  and  they  returned  his  salu- 
tation gravely,  suddenly  silent.  He  walked  directly 
over  to  Concha. 

"We  will  go  in  together,"  he  said.  "It  matters  noth- 
ing what  they  think.  I  kneel  beside  no  one  else." 

And  Concha,  with  the  air  of  leading  an  honored 
guest  to  the  banquet,  turned  and  walked  with  him  into 
the  dark  little  church. 

"Why  did  you  not  wear  a  white  mantilla?"  he  whis- 
pered. "I  do  not  like  that  black  thing." 

"I  am  not  a  bride.  I  knew  we  should  kneel  together 
— it  would  have  been  ridiculous.  And  I  could  not  wear 
a  colored  reboso  to-day." 

"I  should  have  liked  to  fancy  we  were  here  for  our 
nuptials.  Delusions  pass  but  are  none  the  less  sweet 
for  that." 

They  knelt  before  the  altar,  the  Commandante,  Dona 
Ignacia,  Luis,  Santiago,  Rafaella  Sal  and  Elena  Castro 
just  behind ;  the  rest  of  the  party,  their  bright  garments 


166    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

shimmering  vaguely  in  the  gloom,  as  they  listed;  and 
enough  fervent  prayers  went  up  to  insure  the  health 
and  safety  of  the  departing  guests  for  all  their  lives. 

Kezanov,  who  had  much  on  his  mind,  stared  moodily 
at  the  altar  until  Concha,  who  had  bowed  her  head 
almost  to  her  knees,  finished  her  supplication;  then 
their  eyes  turned  and  met  simultaneously.  For  a  mo- 
ment their  brains  did  swim  in  the  delusion  that  the 
priest  with  his  uplifted  hands  pronounced  benediction 
upon  their  nuptials,  that  probation  was  over  and  union 
nigh.  But  Father  Abella  dismissed  all  with  the  same 
blessing,  and  they  shivered  as  they  rose  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  church. 

Dona  Ignacia  took  her  husband's  arm,  and  muttering 
that  she  feared  a  chill,  hurried  the  others  before  her. 
The  priests  had  gone  to  the  sacristy.  Before  they 
reached  the  door  Kezanov  and  Concha  were  alone. 

His  hands  fell  heavily  on  her  shoulders. 

"Concha,"  he  said.  "I  shall  come  back  if  I  live.  I 
make  no  foolish  vows,  so  idle  between  us.  There  is  only 
one  power  that  can  prevent  our  marriage  in  this  church 
not  later  than  two  years  from  to-day.  And  although  I 
am  in  the  very  fulness  of  my  health  and  strength,  with 
my  work  but  begun,  and  all  my  happiness  in  the  future, 
and  even  to  a  less  sanguine  man  it  would  seem  that  his 
course  had  many  years  to  run,  still  have  I  seen  as  much 
as  any  man  of  the  inconsequence  of  life,  of  the  insig- 
nificance of  the  individual,  his  hopes,  ambitions,  happi- 
ness, and  even  usefulness,  in  the  complicated  machinery 
of  natural  laws.  It  may  be  that  I  shall  not  come  back. 
But  I  wish  to  take  with  me  your  promise  that  if  I  have 
not  returned  at  the  end  of  two  years  or  you  have  re- 
ceived no  reason  for  my  detention,  you  will  believe  that 
I  am  dead.  There  would  be  but  one  insupportable  drop 
in  the  bitterness  of  death,  the  doubt  of  your  faith  in 
my  word  and  my  love.  Are  you  too  much  of  a  woman 
to  curb  your  imagination  in  a  long  unbroken  silence?" 

"I  have  learned  so  much  that  one  lesson  more  is  no 
tax  on  my  faith.  And  I  no  longer  live  in  a  world  of 


REZANOV  167 

little  things.  I  promise  you  that  I  shall  never  falter  nor 
doubt. " 

He  bent  his  head  and  kissed  her  for  the  first  time 
without  passion,  but  solemnly,  as  had  their  nuptials 
indeed  been  accomplished,  and  the  greater  mystery  of 
spiritual  union  isolated  them  for  a  moment  in  that  twi- 
light region  where  the  mortal  part  did  not  enter. 

As  they  left  the  church  they  saw  that  all  the  Indians 
of  the  Mission  and  neighborhood,  in  a  gala  of  color, 
had  gathered  to  cheer  the  Eussians  as  they  rode  away. 
Concha  was  to  return  as  she  had  come,  beside  the  carreta 
of  her  mother,  and  as  Eezanov  mounted  his  horse  she 
stood  staring  with  unseeing  eyes  on  the  brilliant  ani- 
mated scene.  Suddenly  she  heard  a  suppressed  sob,  and 
felt  a  touch  on  her  skirt.  She  looked  round  and  saw 
Eosa,  kneeling  close  to  the  church.  For  a  moment 
she  continued  to  stare,  hardly  comprehending,  in  the 
intense  concentration  of  her  faculties,  that  tangible 
beings,  other  than  herself  and  Eezanov,  still  moved  on 
the  earth.  Then  her  mind  relaxed.  She  was  normal 
in  a  normal  world  once  more.  She  stooped  and  patted 
the  hands  clasping  her  skirts. 

"Poor  Eosa!"  she  said.     "Poor  Eosa!" 

Over  the  intense  green  of  islands  and  hills  were 
long  banners  of  yellow  and  purple  mist,  where  the  wild 
flowers  were  lifting  their  heads.  The  whole  quivering 
bay  was  as  green  as  the  land,  but  far  away  the  moun- 
tains of  the  east  were  pink.  Where  there  was  a  patch 
of  verdure  on  the  sand  hills  the  warm  golden  red  of 
the  poppy  flaunted  in  the  sunshine.  All  nature  was  in 
gala  attire  like  the  Californians  themselves,  as  the  Juno 
under  full  sail  sped  through  "The  Mouth  of  the  Gulf 
of  the  Farallones."  Fort  San  Joaquin  saluted  with 
seven  guns;  the  Juno  returned  the  compliment  with 
nine.  The  Commandante,  his  family  and  guests,  stood 
on  the  hill  above  the  fort,  cheering,  waving  sombreros 
and  handkerchiefs.  Wind  and  tide  carried  the  ship 
rapidly  out  the  straits.  Eezanov  dropped  the  cocked 


168    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

hat  he  had  been  waving  and  raised  his  field-glass. 
Concha,  as  ever,  stood  a  little  apart.  As  the  ship  grew 
smaller  and  the  company  turned  toward  the  Presidio, 
she  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff.  The  wind  lifted 
her  loosened  mantilla,  billowing  it  out  on  one  side,  and 
as  she  stood  with  her  hands  pressed  against  her  heart, 
she  might,  save  for  her  empty  arms,  have  been  the 
eidolon  of  the  Madonna  di  San  Sisto.  In  her  eyes  was 
the  same  expression  of  vague  arrested  horror  as  she 
looked  out  on  that  world  of  menacing  imperfections  the 
blind  forces  of  nature  and  man  had  created;  her  body 
was  instinct  with  the  same  nervous  leashed  impotent 
energy. 


XXV 

THE  white  rain  clouds,  rolling  as  ever  like  a  nervous 
intruder  over  the  great  snow  peaks  behind  the  steep 
hills  black  with  forest  that  rose  like  a  wall  back  of  the 
little  settlement  of  Sitka,  parted  for  a  moment,  and  the 
sun,  a  coy  disdainful  guest,  flung  a  glittering  mist  over 
what  Nature  had  intended  to  be  one  of  the  most  enchant- 
ing spots  on  earth,  until,  in  a  fit  of  ill-temper — with  one 
of  the  gods,  no  doubt — she  gave  it  to  Niobe  as  a  per- 
manent outlet  for  her  discontent.  When  it  does  not 
rain  at  Sitka  it  pours,  and  when  once  in  a  way  she 
draws  a  deep  breath  of  respite  and  lifts  her  grand  and 
glorious  face  to  the  sun,  in  pathetic  gratitude  for  dear 
infrequent  favor,  comes  a  wild  flurry  of  snow  or  a  close 
white  fog  from  the  inland  waters;  and,  like  a  great 
beauty  condemned  to  wear  a  veil  through  life,  she  can 
but  stare  in  dumb  resentment  through  the  folds,  con- 
soling herself  with  the  knowledge  that  could  the  world 
but  see  it  must  surely  worship.  Perhaps,  who  knows? 
she  really  is  a  frozen  goddess,  condemned  to  the  veil  for 
infidelity  to  him  imprisoned  in  the  great  volcano  across 
the  sound — who  sends  up  a  column  of  light  once  in  a 
way  to  dazzle  her  shrouded  eyes,  and  failing  that  bat- 
ters her  with  rock  and  stone  like  any  lover  of  the  slums. 
One  day  he  spat  forth  a  rock  like  a  small  hill,  and  big 
enough  to  dominate  the  strip  of  lowland  at  least,  stand- 
ing out  on  the  edge  of  the  island  like  a  guard  at  the 
gates,  and  never  a  part  of  the  alien  surface.  Between 
this  lofty  rock  and  the  forest  was  the  walled  settlement 
of  New  Archangel,  that  Baranhov,  the  dauntless,  had 
wrested  from  the  bloodthirsty  Kolosh  but  a  short  time 
since  and  purposed  to  hold  in  the  interest  of  the  Russian- 
American  Company.  His  log  hut,  painted  like  the  other 

169 


170    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

buildings  with  a  yellow  ochre  found  in  the  soil,  stood 
on  the  rock,  and  his  glass  swept  the  forest  as  often  as 
the  sea. 

As  Rezanov,  on  the  second  of  July,  thirty-one  days 
after  leaving  San  Francisco,  sailed  into  the  harbor  with 
its  hundred  bits  of  volcanic  woodland  weeping  as  ever, 
he  gave  a  whimsical  sigh  in  tribute  to  the  gay  and  ever- 
changing  beauties  of  the  southern  land,  but  was  in  no 
mood  for  sentimental  reminiscence.  Natives,  paddling 
eagerly  out  to  sea  in  their  bidarkas  to  be  the  first  to 
bring  in  good  news  or  bad,  had  given  him  a  report  cover- 
ing the  period  of  his  absence  that  filled  him  with  dismay. 
There  had  been  deaths  from  scurvy;  one  of  the  largest 
ships  belonging  to  the  Company  had  been  wrecked  and 
the  entire  cargo  lost;  of  a  hunting  party  of  three  hun- 
dred Aleuts  in  one  hundred  and  forty  bidarkas,  which 
had  gone  from  Sitka  to  Kadiak  in  November  of  the  pre- 
ceding year,  not  one  had  arrived  at  its  destination,  and 
there  was  reason  to  believe  that  all  had  been  drowned 
or  massacred;  and  the  Russians  and  Aleuts  at  Behring's 
Bay  settlement  had  been  exterminated  by  one  of  the 
native  tribes. 

But  the  Juno  was  received  with  salvos  of  artillery 
from  the  fort,  and  cheered  by  the  entire  population 
of  the  settlement,  crowded  on  the  beach.  Baranhov, 
looking  like  a  monkey  with  a  mummy's  head  in  which 
only  a  pair  of  incomparably  shrewd  eyes  still  lived, 
his  black  wig  fastened  on  his  bald  red-fringed  pate  with 
a  silk  handkerchief  tied  under  his  chin,  stood,  hands 
on  hips,  shaking  with  excitement  and  delight.  The 
bearded  long-haired  priests,  in  full  canonicals  of  black 
and  gold,  were  beside  the  Chief-Manager,  ready  to  escort 
the  Chamberlain  to  the  chapel  at  the  head  of  the  solitary 
street,  where  the  bells  were  pealing  and  a  mass  of  thanks- 
giving was  to  be  said  for  his  safe  return. 

But  it  was  some  time  before  Rezanov  could  reach  the 
chapel  or  even  exchange  salutations  with  Baranhov.  As 
he  stepped  on  shore  he  was  surrounded,  almost  hustled 
by  the  shouting  crowd  of  Russians — many  of  them  con- 


REZANOV  171 

victs — Aleuts  and  Sitkans,  who  knelt  at  his  feet,  endeav- 
ored to  kiss  his  hand,  his  garments,  in  their  hysterical 
gratitude  for  the  food  he  had  brought  them.  For  the 
first  time  he  felt  reconciled  to  his  departure  from  Cali- 
fornia, and  Concha's  image  faded  as  he  looked  at  the 
tearful  faces  of  the  diseased  ill-nourished  wretches  who 
gave  their  mite  of  life  that  he  might  live  as  became  a 
great  noble  of  the  Russian  Empire.  But  although  he 
tingled  with  pleasure  and  was  deeply  moved,  he  by  no 
means  swelled  with  vanity,  for  he  was  far  too  clear- 
sighted to  doubt  he  had  done  more  than  his  duty,  or 
that  his  duty  was  more  than  begun.  He  made  them  a 
little  speech,  giving  his  word  they  should  be  properly 
fed  hereafter,  that  he  would  make  the  improvement  of 
their  condition  as  well  as  that  of  all  the  employees  of 
the  Company  throughout  this  vast  chain  of  settlements 
on  the  Pacific,  the  chief  consideration  of  his  life;  and 
they  believed  him  and  followed  him  to  the  chapel  rejoic- 
ing, reconciled  for  once  to  their  lot. 

After  the  service  Rezanov  went  up  to  the  hut  of  the 
Chief -Manager,  a  habitation  that  leaked  winter  and  sum- 
mer, and  was  equally  deficient  in  light,  ventilation  and 
order.  But  Baranhov  in  the  sixteen  years  of  his  exile 
had  forgotten  the  bare  lineaments  of  comfort,  and  de- 
voted his  days  to  advancing  the  interests  of  the  Com- 
pany, his  nights,  save  when  sleep  overcame  him,  to  pota- 
tions that  would  have  buried  an  ordinary  man  under 
Alaskan  snows  long  before.  But  Baranhov  had  fourteen 
years  more  of  good  service  in  him,  and  rescued  the  Com- 
pany from  insolvency  again  and  again,  nor  ever  played 
into  the  hands  of  marauding  foreigners;  with  brain  on 
fire  he  was  shrewder  than  the  soberest. 

He  listened  with  deep  satisfaction  to  the  Chamber- 
lain's account  of  his  success  with  the  Calif ornians  and 
his  glowing  pictures  of  the  country,  nodding  every  few 
moments  with  emphatic  approval.  But  as  the  story 
finished  his  wonderful  eyes  were  two  bubbling  springs  of 
humor,  and  Rezanov,  who  knew  him  well,  recrossed  his 
legs  nervously. 


172    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"What  is  it?"  lie  asked.  "What  have  I  done  now? 
Remember  that  you  have  been  in  this  business  for  six- 
teen years,  and  I  one " 

"How  many  measures  of  corn  did  you  say  you  had 
brought,  Excellency?" 

"Two  hundred  and  ninety-four,"  replied  Rezanov 
proudly. 

"A  provision  that  exceeds  my  most  sanguine  hopes. 
The  only  thing  that  mitigates  my  satisfaction  is  that 
there  is  not  a  mill  in  the  settlement  to  grind  it." 

Eezanov  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  violent  exclamation, 
his  face  very  red.  There  was  no  one  whose  good  opinion 
he  valued  as  he  did  that  of  this  brilliant,  dissipated, 
disinterested  old  genius;  and  he  felt  like  a  schoolboy. 
But  although  he  started  for  the  door,  he  recovered 
half-way,  and  reseating  himself  joined  in  the  laughter 
of  the  little  man  who  was  rocking  back  and  forth  on  his 
bench,  his  weazened  leg  clasped  against  his  shrunken 
chest. 

"How  on  earth  was  I  to  know  all  your  domestic 
arrangements?"  he  said  testily.  "God  knows  I  found 
them  limited  enough  last  winter,  but  it  never  occurred 
to  me  there  was  any  mysterious  process  involved  in  con- 
verting corn  into  meal.  Is  it  quite  useless,  then?" 

"Oh,  no,  we  can  boil  or  roast  it.  It  will  dispose  of 
what  teeth  we  have  left,  but  that  will  serve  the  good 
purpose  of  reminding  us  always  of  your  excellency's 
interest  in  our  welfare." 

Rezanov  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Give  the  corn  to 
the  natives.  It  is  farinaceous  at  all  events.  And  you 
can  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  flour  I  have  brought, 
and  the  peas,  beans,  tallow,  butter,  barley,  salt,  and 
salted  meats — in  all  to  the  value  of  twenty-four  thousand 
Spanish  dollars." 

The  Chief-Manager's  head  nodded  with  the  vigor  and 
rapidity  of  a  mechanical  toy.  ' '  It  is  a  God-send,  a  God- 
send. If  you  did  no  more  than  that  you  would  have 
earned  our  everlasting  gratitude.  It  will  make  us  over, 


REZANOV  173 

give  us  renewed  courage  in  this  cursed  existence.  Are 
you  not  going  to  get  me  out  of  it?" 

Kezanov  shook  his  head  with  a  smile.  "  Literally  you 
are  the  whole  Company.  As  long  as  I  live  here  you 
stay — although  when  I  reach  St.  Petersburg  I  shall  see 
that  you  receive  every  possible  reward  and  honor." 

Baranhov  lifted  his  shoulders  to  his  ears  in  quizzical 
.resignation.  "I  suppose  it  matters  little  where  the  last 
few  years  left  me  are  spent,  and  I  can  hang  the  medals 
on  the  walls  to  console  me  when  I  have  rheumatism, 
and  shout  my  titles  from  the  top  of  the  fort  when  the 
Kolosh  are  yelling  at  the  barricades." 

"You  must  make  yourself  more  comfortable,"  said 
Eezanov  emphatically.  "You  are  wrong  to  carry  your 
honesty  and  enthusiasm  to  the  point  of  living  like  the 
promuschleniki.  Take  enough  of  their  time  to  build 
you  a  comfortable  dwelling,  and  I  will  send  you,  on  my 
own  account,  far  more  substantial  rewards  than  orders 
and  titles.  Build  a  big  house,  for  that  matter.  I  shall 
be  here  more  or  less — when  I  am  not  in  California." 
And  he  told  Baranhov  of  his  proposed  marriage  with 
the  daughter  of  Don  Jose  Argiiello. 

The  Chief-Manager  listened  to  this  confidence  with 
an  even  livelier  satisfaction  than  to  the  list  of  the  Juno's 
cargo. 

"We  shall  have  California  yet!"  he  cried,  his  eyes 
snapping  like  live  coals  under  the  black  thatch  of  wig. 
"Absorption  or  the  bayonet.  It  matters  little.  Ten 
years  from  now  and  we  shall  have  a  line  of  settlements 
as  far  south  as  San  Diego.  My  plan  was  to  feel  my  way 
down  the  northern  coast  of  California  with  a  colony, 
which  should  buy  a  tract  of  land  from  the  natives  and 
engage  immediately  in  otter  hunting — somewhere  be- 
tween Cape  Mendocino  and  Drake's  Bay.  The  Spanish 
have  no  settlements  above  San  Francisco  and  are  too 
weak  to  drive  us  out.  They  would  rage  and  bluster  and 
do  nothing.  Then  quietly  push  forward,  building  forts 
and  ships.  But  you  have  taken  hold  in  the  grand  man- 
ner and  will  accomplish  in  ten  years  what  would  have 


174    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

taken  me  fifty.  Marry  this  girl,  use  your  advantage 
over  the  entire  family — whose  influence  I  well  know — • 
and  that  great  personal  power  with  which  the  Almighty 
has  been  so  lavish,  and  you  will  have  the  whole  weakly 
garrisoned  country  under  your  foot  before  they  know 
where  they  are,  and  the  Russian  settlers  pouring  in. 
Spain  cannot  come  to  the  rescue  while  this  devil  Bona- 
parte is  alive,  and  he  is  young,  and  like  yourself  a 
favorite  of  destiny.  Those  damned  Bostonians  inherit 
the  grabbing  instincts  of  the  too  paternal  race  they  have 
just  rejected,  but  there  are  thousands  of  miles  of  desert 
between  California  and  their  own  western  outposts,  hun- 
dreds of  savage  tribes  to  exterminate.  By  the  time  they 
were  in  a  position  to  attempt  the  occupation  of  Cali- 
fornia we  should  be  so  securely  entrenched  they  would 
either  let  us  alone  or  send  troops  that  would  be  half 
dead  by  the  time  they  reached  us.  As  to  ships,  we 
could  soon  build  enough  at  Okhotsk  and  Petropaulovsky 
for  our  purpose.  For  the  matter  of  that,  if  your  gifted 
tongue  impressed  the  Tsar  with  the  riches  of  California 
there  would  always  be  war  ships  on  her  coast."  He 
leaned  forward  and  caught  the  strong  shoulders  above 
him  in  hands  that  looked  like  a  tangle  of  baked  nerves, 
and  shook  them  vigorously.  "You  are  a  great  boy!" 
he  said  with  a  sort  of  quizzical  solemnity.  "A  great 
boy.  This  damned,  God-forsaken,  pestilential,  demoraliz- 
ing, brutalizing  factory  for  enriching  a  few  with  the 
very  life  blood  and  vitals  of  thousands  that  will  suffer 
and  starve  and  never  be  heard  of"  (all  his  language 
cannot  be  recorded),  "will  make  two  or  three  reputa- 
tions by  the  way.  Mine  will  be  one,  although  I'll  get 
nothing  else.  Shelikov  is  safe;  but  you  will  have  a 
monument.  Well,  God  bless  you.  I  grudge  you  nothing. 
Not  even  the  happiness  you  deserve  and  are  bound  to 
have — for  when  all  is  said  and  done,  Rezanov,  you  are  a 
lucky  dog,  a  lucky  dog!  Any  man  may  see  that,  even 
when  these  infernal  snows  have  left  him  with  but  half 
an  eye.  To  quarrel  with  a  destiny  like  yours  would 
be  as  great  a  waste  of  time  as  to  protest  that  California 


REZANOV  175 

is  warm  and  fertile,  while  this  infernal  North  is  like  liv- 
ing in  a  refrigerator  with  the  deluge  to  vary  the  monot- 
ony. Now  let  us  get  drunk!" 

But  Rezanov  laughingly  extricated  himself,  and  send- 
ing a  message  to  Davidov  and  Khostov  to  come  to  him 
immediately,  walked  toward  the  tent  he  had  ordered 
erected  on  the  edge  of  the  settlement;  only  the  worst 
of  weather  drove  him  indoors  in  these  half-civilized  com- 
munities. 

As  he  was  passing  the  chapel,  followed  again  by  the 
employees  of  the  Company,  to  whom  he  had  granted  a 
holiday,  he  suddenly  found  his  hand  taken  possession  of, 
and  looked  up  to  see  himself  confronted  by  a  dissipated- 
looking  person  in  plain  clothes.  His  hand  became  so 
limp  that  it  was  dropped  as  if  it  had  put  forth  a  sting, 
and  he  narrowed  his  eyes  and  demanded  with  a  bend  of 
his  mouth  that  brought  the  blood  to  the  face  of  the 
intruder : 

'  *  And  who  are  you,  may  I  ask  ? ' ' 

The  man  threw  back  his  head  defiantly.  "I  am 
Lieutenant  Sookin  of  the  Imperial  Navy  of  Russia/7 
he  said  in  a  loud  defiant  tone. 

"And  I  am  Chamberlain  of  the  Russian  Court  and 
Commander  of  all  America,"  replied  Rezanov  coolly. 
"Now  go  to  your  quarters,  dress  yourself  in  your  uni- 
form, and  present  your  report  to  me  an  hour  hence. ' ' 

The  officer,  concentrating  in  his  injected  eyes  all  the 
lively  hatred  and  jealousy  of  his  service  for  the  Russian- 
American  Company  in  this  region  where  it  reigned 
supreme  and  cared  no  more  for  the  Admiralty  than  for 
some  native  chieftain  covered  with  shells  and  warpaint, 
glared  at  its  plenipotentiary  as  if  calling  upon  his  deeper 
resources  of  insolence;  but  the  steady  contemptuous 
gaze  of  the  man  who  had  dealt  with  his  kind  often  and 
successfully  overcame  his  sodden  spirit,  and  he  turned 
sulkily  and  slouched  off  to  his  quarters  to  console  him- 
self with  more  brandy.  Rezanov  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  went  on  to  his  tent. 

There  was  no  furniture  in  it  as  yet,  and  he  was 


176    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

obliged  to  receive  Davidov  and  Khostov  standing,  but 
this  he  preferred.  They  followed  him  almost  immedi- 
ately, apprehensive  and  nervous,  and  before  speaking 
he  looked  at  them  for  a  moment  with  his  strong  pene- 
trating gaze.  He  well  knew  the  power  of  his  own  per- 
sonality, and  that  it  was  immeasurably  enhanced  by  the 
fact  that  of  all  with  whom  he  had  to  do  in  these  be- 
nighted regions  his  will  alone  was  never  weakened  by 
liquor.  These  young  men,  clever,  high-bred,  with  an 
honorable  record  not  only  in  Russia,  but  in  England  and 
America,  looked  upon  a  hilarious  night  as  the  just 
reward  of  work  well  done  by  day.  Brandy  was  debited 
to  their  account  by  the  "bucket"  (a  bucket  being  a 
trifle  less  than  two  gallons),  and  they  found  little  fault 
with  life.  But  it  gave  a  commanding  spirit  like  Re- 
zanov's  an  advantage  which  they  did  not  underestimate 
for  a  moment;  and  they  alternately  hated  and  wor- 
shiped him. 

"I  think  you  have  an  inkling  of  what  I  am  going 
to  ask  you  to  do."  The  Chamberlain  brought  out  the 
euphemism  with  the  utmost  suavity.  "I  have  made  up 
my  mind  not  to  ignore  the  indignity  to  which  Russia  was 
subjected  last  year  by  Japan,  but  to  inflict  upon  it  such 
punishment  as  I  find  it  in  my  power  to  compass.  It  was 
my  intention  to  build  a  flotilla  here,  but  owing  to  the 
diseased  condition  and  reduced  numbers  of  the  em- 
ployees, that  was  impossible,  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
content  myself  with  the  Juno  and  the  Avos,  whose  keel, 
as  you  know,  was  laid  in  November,  and  is  no  doubt 
finished  long  since.  These  I  shall  fit  with  armaments 
in  Okhotsk.  I  shall  place  the  enterprise  I  have  spoken 
of  in  your  charge,  sailing  with  you  from  Sitka  five 
days  hence.  From  Okhotsk  I  desire  that  you  proceed  to 
the  Japanese  settlements  in  the  lower  Kurile  Islands, 
take  possession  of  them  and  bring  all  stores  and  as 
many  of  the  inhabitants  as  the  vessels  will  accommo- 
date, to  Sitka,  where  Baranhov  will  see  that  they  are 
comfortably  established  on  that  large  island  in  the 
harbor — which  we  shall  call  Japonsky — and  converted 


REZANOV  177 

into  good  servants  of  the  Company.  The  excuse  for  this 
enterprise  is  that  those  islands  were  formally  taken  pos- 
session of  by  Shelikov;  and  although  abandoned  later, 
the  fact  remains  that  the  Russian  flag  was  the  first  to 
float  over  them.  The  stores  captured  may  not  be  worth 
much  and  the  islands  are  of  no  particular  use  to  us, 
but  it  is  wise  that  Japan  should  have  a  taste  of  Russian 
power;  and  the  consequences  may  be  salutary  in  more 
ways  than  one.  I  hope  you  will  do  me  this  great  favor, 
for  there  is  no  one  of  your  tried  probity  and  skill  to 
whom  I  can  trust  so  delicate  an  enterprise.  I  am  doing 
it  wholly  upon  my  own  responsibility,  for  although  I 
wrote  tentatively  to  the  Tsar  on  this  subject  before  I 
sailed  for  California,  it  is  not  yet  time  for  a  reply. 
However,  I  take  the  consequences  upon  my  own  shoul- 
ders. You  shall  not  suffer  in  any  way,  for  your  orders 
are  to  obey  mine  while  you  remain  in  these  waters." 

He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  suddenly  smiled  into 
the  unresponsive  faces  before  him.  He  held  out  his 
hand  and  shook  their  limp  ones  warmly. 

"Let  me  thank  you  here  for  all  your  inestimable 
services  in  the  past,  and  particularly  during  our  late 
hazardous  voyages.  Be  sure  that  whether  you  succeed 
in  this  enterprise  or  not,  your  rewards  shall  be  no  less 
for  what  you  have  already  done.  I  shall  make  it  a 
personal  matter  with  the  Tsar.  You  shall  have  promo- 
tion and  a  substantial  increase  in  pay,  besides  the  orders 
and  Imperial  thanks  you  so  richly  deserve.  Lest  any- 
thing happen  to  me  on  my  homeward  journey,  I  shall 
write  to  St.  Petersburg  before  I  leave." 

The  lieutenants,  overcome  as  ever  when  he  chose  to 
put  forth  his  full  powers,  assured  him  of  their  fidelity 
and,  if  with  misgivings,  vowed  to  mete  vengeance  to 
the  Japanese.  And  although  their  misgivings  were  not 
unfounded,  and  they  paid  a  high  price  in  suffering  and 
mortification,  they  accomplished  their  object  and  in  due 
course  received  the  rewards  the  Chamberlain  had 
promised  them. 

They  did  not  retire,  and  Rezanov,  noting  their  sud- 


178    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

den  hesitation  and  embarrassment,  felt  an  instant  thrill 
of  apprehension. 

1 '  What  is  it  ?"  he  demanded.    ' '  What  has  happened  ? ' ' 

' '  Life  has  moved  slowly  in  Sitka  during  your  absence, 
Excellency,"  replied  Davidov.  "There  has  been  little 
work  done  on  the  Avos.  It  will  not  be  finished  for  a 
month  or  six  weeks." 

Then,  had  the  young  men  been  possessed  by  a  not 
infrequent  mood,  they  would  have  glowed  with  a  sense 
of  just  satisfaction.  Kezanov  felt  himself  turn  so  white 
that  he  wheeled  about  and  left  the  tent.  A  month  or  six 
weeks !  And  the  speed  and  safety  of  his  journey  across 
Siberia  depended  upon  his  making  the  greater  part  of 
it  before  the  heavy  autumn  rains  swelled  the  rivers  and 
flooded  the  swamps.  Winter  or  summer  the  journey 
from  Okhotsk  to  St.  Petersburg  might  be  made  in  four 
months ;  with  the  wealth  and  influence  at  his  command, 
possibly  in  less ;  but.  in  the  deluge  between  he  was  liable 
to  detentions  lasting  nearly  as  long  again,  to  say  nothing 
of  illness  caused  by  inevitable  exposure. 

He  stood  staring  at  the  palisades  for  many  minutes. 
The  separation  must  be  long  enough,  the  dangers  numer- 
ous enough  if  he  started  within  the  week,  but  at  least  he 
had  in  a  measure  accustomed  himself  to  the  idea  of  not 
seeing  Concha  again  for  "the  best  part  of  two  years," 
and  the  sanguineness  of  his  temperament  had  led  him  to 
hope  that  the  time  might  be  reduced  to  eighteen  months. 
If  he  delayed  too  long,  only  by  means  of  an  unprecedent- 
ed run  of  good  fortune  would  he  reach  St.  Petersburg  but 
a  month  behind  his  calculations.  And  the  chances  were 
in  favor  of  four,  or  three  at  the  best!  Never  since  the 
morning  that  the  real  nature  of  his  feeling  for  Concha 
had  declared  itself  had  he  yearned  toward  her  as  at 
that  moment ;  never  since  the  dictum  of  what  she  called 
their  "tribunal"  had  he  so  rebelled  against  the  long 
delay.  And  yet  he  hesitated.  To  leave  Japan  unpun- 
ished for  the  senseless  humiliations  to  which  it  had 
subjected  Russia  in  his  person  was  not  to  be  thought 
of,  and  yet  did  he  leave  without  seeing  the  Avos  finished, 


REZANOV  179 

the  two  boats  supplied  with  armaments  at  Ohkotsk,  and 
under  way  before  he  started  across  Siberia,  he  knew 
it  was  doubtful  if  the  expedition  took  place  before  his 
return;  in  that  case  might  never  take  place,  for  these 
two  young  men  might  have  drifted  elsewhere,  and  he 
knew  no  one  else  to  whom  he  could  entrust  such  a 
commission.  In  spite  of  their  idiosyncrasies  he  could 
rely  upon  them  implicitly — up  to  a  certain  point.  That 
point  involved  keeping  them  in  sight  until  exactly  the 
right  moment  and  leaving  nothing  to  their  executive 
which  could  be  certainly  accomplished  by  himself  alone. 
Did  he  sail  five  days  hence  on  the  Juno  one  of  the  offi- 
cers would  be  exposed  for  an  indeterminate  time  to  the 
temptations  of  Okhotsk,  the  ship,  perhaps,  at  the  mercy 
of  some  sudden  requirement  of  the  Company.  His 
authority  was  absolute  when  enforced  in  person,  but  it 
was  a  proverb  west  of  the  Ural:  "God  reigns  and  the 
Tsar  is  far  away."  If  the  Juno  were  wanted  the  man- 
ager at  Okhotsk  would  argue  that  two  years  was  a  period 
in  which  an  ardent  servant  of  the  Company  could  find 
many  an  excuse  to  justify  its  seizure. 

And  here  in  Sitka  it  was  doubtful  if  the  work  on 
the  Av os  proceeded  at  all.  Baranhov  was  not  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  enterprise  against  the  Japanese,  fear- 
ing the  consequences  to  himself  in  the  event  of  the  Tsar 's 
disapproval,  and  resenting  the  impressment  of  the  pro- 
muschleniki  into  a  service  that  deprived  him  of  their 
legitimate  work.  Moreover,  although  he  loved  Rezanov 
personally,  he  had  enjoyed  supreme  power  in  the  wilder- 
ness too  long  not  to  chafe  under  even  the  temporary 
assumption  of  authority  by  his  high-handed  superior. 
With  the  best  of  intentions  Davidov  could  make  little 
headway  against  the  passive  resistance  of  the  Chief- 
Manager,  and  those  intentions  would  be  weakened  by 
the  consolations  the  Company  so  generously  afforded. 

The  result  was  hardly  open  to  doubt.  If  he  left 
Sitka  before  the  completion  of  the  Avos,  Russia  would 
go  unavenged  for  the  present.  Or  himself?  Rezanov, 
sanguine  and  imaginative  as  he  was,  even  to  the  point 


180    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

of  creating  premises  to  rhyme  with  ends,  was  very  honest 
fundamentally.  He  turned  abruptly  on  his  heel,  and 
calling  to  the  officers  that  he  would  announce  his  deci- 
sion on  the  morrow,  ordered  the  sentry  to  open  the  gate 
and  passed  out  of  the  enclosure. 

He  crossed  the  clearing  and  entered  the  forest.  The 
warlike  tribes  themselves  had  trodden  paths  through 
the  dense  undergrowth  of  young  trees  and  ferns.  Re- 
zanov, despite  Baranhov's  warning,  had  tramped  the 
forest  many  times.  It  was  the  one  thing  that  recon- 
ciled him  to  Sitka,  for  there  are  few  woods  more  beau- 
tiful. In  spite  or  because  of  the  incessant  rains,  it  is 
pervaded  by  a  rich  golden  gloom,  the  result  of  the 
constant  rotting  of  the  brown  and  yellow  bark,  not  only 
of  the  prostrate  trees,  but  of  the  many  killed  by  crowd- 
ing and  unable  to  seek  the  earth  with  the  natural  instinct 
of  death.  And  above,  the  green  of  hemlock  and  spruce 
was  perennially  fresh  and  young,  glistening  and  fra- 
grant. Here  and  there  was  a  small  clearing  where  the 
clans  had  erected  their  ingenious  and  hideous  totem 
poles,  out  of  place  in  the  ancient  beauty  of  the  wood. 

The  ferns  brushed  his  waist,  the  roar  of  the  river 
came  to  his  ears,  the  forest  had  never  looked  more  pri- 
meval, more  wooing  to  a  man  burdened  with  civilization, 
but  Rezanov  gave  it  less  heed  than  usual,  although  he 
had  turned  to  it  instinctively.  He  was  occupied  with  a 
question  to  which  nature  would  turn  an  aloof  disdain- 
ful ear.  Was  his  own  wounded  vanity  at  the  root  of  his 
desire  to  humiliate  Japan?  Russia  was  too  powerful, 
too  occupied,  for  the  present  at  least,  greatly  to  care 
that  her  overtures  and  presents  had  been  scorned.  Upon 
her  ambassador  had  fallen  the  full  brunt  of  that  weari- 
some and  incomparably  mortifying  experience,  and  un- 
fortunately the  ambassador  happened  to  be  one  of  the 
proudest  and  most  autocratic  men  in  her  empire.  No 
man  of  Rezanov 's  caliber  but  accommodates  that  sort  of 
personal  vanity  that  tenaciously  resents  a  blow  to  the 
pride  of  which  it  is  a  part,  to  the  love  of  power  it  feeds. 
As  well  expect  a  lover  without  passion,  a  state  without 


KEZANOV  181 

corruption.  Rezanov  finally  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
admitted  the  impeachment,  but  at  the  same  time  he  rec- 
ognized that  the  desire  for  vengeance  still  held,  and  that 
the  tenacity  of  his  nature,  a  tenacity  that  had  been  no 
mean  factor  in  the  remodeling  of  himself  from  a  volup- 
tuous young  sprig  of  nobility  into  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful business  men  and  subjugator  of  other  men  that 
the  Russian  Empire  could  show,  was  not  likely  to  weaken 
when  its  very  roots  had  been  stiff  with  purpose  for  fif- 
teen months.  Power  had  been  Rezanov 's  ruling  passion 
for  many  years  before  he  met  Concha  Argiiello,  and, 
although  it  might  mate  very  comfortably  with  love,  it 
was  not  to  be  expected  that  it  would  remain  submerged 
beyond  the  first  enthusiasm,  nor  even  assume  the  posi- 
tion of  the  "party  of  the  second  part."  Rezanov  was 
Rezanov.  He  was  also  in  that  interval  between  youth 
and  age  when  the  brain  rules  if  it  is  ever  to  rule  at  all. 
That  the  ardor  of  his  nature  had  awakened  refreshed 
after  a  long  sleep  was  but  just  proved,  as  well  as  the 
revival  of  his  early  ideals  and  capacity  for  genuine  love ; 
but  the  complexities,  the  manifold  interests  and  desires 
of  the  ego  had  been  growing  and  developing  these  many 
years ;  and  no  mere  mortal  that  has  given  up  his  life  for 
a  considerable  period  to  the  thirst  for  dominance  can 
ever,  save  in  a  brief  exaltation,  sacrifice  it  to  anything 
so  normal  as  the  demands  of  sex  and  spirit.  For  good 
or  ill,  the  man  who  has  burned  with  ambition,  exulted 
in  the  exercise  of  power,  bitterly  resented  the  tempo- 
rary victories  of  rivals  and  enemies,  fought  with  all  the 
resources  of  brain  and  character  against  failure,  is  in 
a  class  apart  from  humanity  in  the  mass.  Rezanov 
loved  Concha  Argiiello  to  the  very  depths  of  his  soul, 
but  he  had  lived  beyond  the  time  when  even  she  could 
engage  successfully  with  the  ruthless  forces  that  had 
molded  into  immutable  shape  the  Rezanov  she  knew. 
Her  place  was  second,  and  it  is  probable  that  she  would 
have  loved  him  less  had  it  been  otherwise ;  she,  in  spite 
of  her  fine  intellect  and  strong  will,  being  all  woman, 
as  he,  despite  his  depth  of  intuition,  was  all  man.  Equal- 


182    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

ity  is  possible  in  no  relation  or  condition  of  life.  When 
woman  subjugates  man  the  conquered  will  enjoy  a 
sense  of  revenge  proportionate  to  the  meanness  of  his 
state. 

It  is  possible  that  had  Concha  awaited  Rezanov  in  St. 
Petersburg  her  attraction  would  have  focused  his  desires 
irresistibly;  but  his  mind  had  resigned  itself  to  the 
prospect  of  separation  for  a  definite  period,  and  while  it 
had  not  relegated  her  image  to  the  background,  her  part 
in  his  life  had  been  settled  there  among  many  future 
possibilities,  and  all  the  foreground  was  crowded  with 
the  impatient  symbols  of  the  intervening  time.  More- 
over, he  well  knew  that  the  savor  would  be  gone  from 
his  happiness  with  the  woman  were  the  taste  of  another 
failure  acrid  in  his  mouth. 

As  he  realized  that  the  die  was  cast,  the  sanguineness 
of  his  temperament  rushed  to  do  battle  against  appre- 
hension and  self-accusing.  After  all,  he  was  rarely 
balked  of  his  way,  accustomed  to  ride  down  obstacles, 
to  the  amiable  cooperation  of  fate.  He  could  arrive  in 
Okhotsk  late  in  September  or  early  in  October.  Captain 
D  'Wolf ,  who  had  been  detained  at  Sitka  during  his  ab- 
sence by  the  same  indifference  that  had  operated  against 
the  completion  of  the  Avos,  would  precede  him  and  order 
that  all  be  in  readiness  at  Okhotsk  both  for  the  ships 
and  his  journey  to  Yakutsk.  He  could  proceed  at  once ; 
and,  no  doubt,  with  twice  the  number  of  horses  needed, 
would  make  the  first  and  most  difficult  stage  of  the  jour- 
ney in  the  usual  time,  and  with  no  great  embarrassment 
from  the  rains.  From  Yakutsk  to  Irkutsk  the  greater 
part  of  the  travel  was  by  water  in  any  case,  and  after 
that  the  land  was  flat  for  the  most  part  and  bridges  were 
more  numerous.  The  governor  of  every  town  in  Siberia 
would  be  his  obsequious  servant,  the  entire  resources  of 
the  country  would  be  at  his  disposal.  He  was  sound  in 
health  again,  as  resistant  against  hardships  as  when  he 
had  sailed  from  Kronstadt.  And  God  knew,  he  thought 
with  a  sigh,  his  will  and  purpose  had  never  been 
stronger. 


XXVI 

REZANOV  disembarked  from  the  Juno  at  Okhotsk  during 
the  first  days  of  October.  Had  it  not  been  for  a  touch 
of  fever  that  had  returned  in  the  filth  and  warm  damp- 
ness of  Sitka,  he  would  have  felt  almost  as  buoyant  in 
mind  and  body  as  in  those  days  when  California  had 
gone  to  his  head.  The  Juno  had  touched  at  Kadiak, 
Oonalaska,  and  others  of  the  more  important  settle- 
ments, and  he  had  found  his  schools  and  libraries  in 
good  condition,  seals  and  otters  rapidly  increasing  in 
their  immunity  from  indiscriminate  slaughter,  new  and 
stronger  forts  threatening  the  nefarious  Bostonian  and 
Briton.  At  Okhotsk  he  learned  that  the  embassy  of 
Count  Golofkin  to  China  had  failed  as  signally  as  his 
own,  and  this  alone  would  have  put  him  in  the  best  of 
tempers  even  had  he  not  found  his  armament  and  cara- 
van awaiting  him,  facilitating  his  immediate  departure. 
He  wrote  a  gay  letter  to  Concha,  giving  her  the  painful 
story  of  the  naturalist  attached  to  the  Golofkin  embassy, 
Dr.  Kedovsky,  who  had  remained  in  the  East  animated 
by  the  same  scientific  enthusiasm  as  that  of  his  col- 
league, the  good  Langsdorff;  parted  some  time  since 
from  his  too  exacting  master.  Kezanov  had  written 
Concha  many  letters  during  his  detention  in  Sitka,  and 
left  them  with  Baranhov  to  send  at  the  first  opportunity. 
The  Chief-Manager,  deeply  interested  in  the  romance 
of  the  mighty  Chamberlain  with  whom  he  alone  dared 
to  take  a  liberty,  vowed  to  guard  all  that  came  to  his 
care  and  sooner  or  later  to  send  them  to  California. 
Kezanov  had  also  written  comprehensively  to  the  Tsar 
and  the  directors  of  the  Russian- American  Company, 
adroitly  placing  his  marriage  in  the  light  of  a  diplo- 
matic maneuver,  and  painting  California  in  colors  the 

183 


184    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

more  vivid  and  enticing  for  the  sullen  clouds  and  roar- 
ing winds,  the  dripping  forests  and  eternal  snows  of  that 
derelict  corner  of  Earth  where  he  had  been  stranded 
so  long.  He  had  also,  when  Langsdorff  announced  his 
intention  to  start  upon  a  difficult  journey  in  the  interest 
of  science,  provided  him  not  only  with  letters  of  rec- 
ommendation, but  with  all  the  comforts  procurable  in 
a  land  where  the  word  comfort  was  the  stock  in  trade 
of  the  local  satirist.  But  Langsdorff,  although  punctili- 
ously acknowledging  the  favors,  never  quite  forgave  the 
indifference  of  a  mere  ambassador  and  chamberlain, 
rejoicing  in  the  dignity  of  an  honorary  membership  in 
the  St.  Petersburg  Academy  of  Sciences,  to  the  supreme 
division  of  natural  history. 

The  first  stage  of  the  journey — from  Okhotsk  to 
Yakutsk — was  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  English  miles, 
not  as  the  crow  flew,  but  over  the  Stanovoi  mountains 
in  a  southwesterly  direction  to  the  Maya,  by  this  river's 
wavering  course  to  the  Youdoma,  then  northwest  to  the 
Aldan,  and  south  beside  the  Lena.  The  beaten  track  lay 
entirely  alongside  the  rivers  at  this  season,  upon  their 
surface  in  winter ;  and  in  addition  to  these  great  streams 
there  were  many  too  unimportant  for  the  map,  but  as 
erratic  in  course  and  as  irresistible  in  energy  after  the 
first  rains  of  autumn. 

Captain  D  'Wolf  had  proved  himself  capable  and  faith- 
ful, and  a  caravan  of  forty  horses  had  been  in  Okhotsk 
a  week;  twenty  for  immediate  use,  twenty  for  relief,  or 
substitutes  in  almost  certain  emergency.  As  there  were 
but  one  or  two  stations  of  any  importance  between  Ok- 
hotsk and  Yakutsk,  and  as  a  week  might  pass  without 
the  shelter  of  so  much  as  a  hut,  it  was  necessary  to 
take  tents  and  bearskin  beds  for  the  Chamberlain,  his 
Cossack  guard,  valet-de-chambre,  cook  and  other  serv- 
ants, one  set  of  fine  blankets  and  linen,  cooking  utensils, 
axes,  arms,  tinder-boxes,  provisions  for  the  entire  trip, 
besides  a  great  quantity  of  personal  luggage. 

Rezanov  lost  no  time.  He  had  changed  his  original 
plan  and  dispatched  Davidov  on  the  Avos  from  Oon- 


REZANOV  185 

alaska.  Guns  and  provisions  awaited  the  Juno  at  Ok- 
hotsk, and  in  less  than  a  week  after  his  arrival  Kezanov 
was  able  to  start  on  his  long  journey  with  a  mind  at  rest. 
Although  the  almost  extravagant  delight  that  his  body 
had  taken  in  the  comforts  of  his  manager's  home,  after 
ten  weeks  on  the  Juno,  warned  him  that  he  might  be  in 
a  better  condition  to  begin  a  journey  of  ten  thousand 
versts,  he  hearkened  neither  to  the  hint  nor  to  the  in- 
sistence of  his  host.  His  impatient  energy  and  stern 
will,  combined  with  the  passionate  wish  to  accomplish 
the  double  object  of  his  journey,  returning  in  the  least 
possible  time  to  California  with  his  treaty  and  the  con- 
sent of  the  Pope  and  King  to  his  marriage,  would  have 
carried  him  out  of  Okhotsk  in  forty-eight  hours  had 
disease  declared  itself.  Nor  were  there  any  inducements 
aside  from  a  comfortable  bed  and  refined  fare,  in 
the  flat  unhealthy  town  with  its  everlasting  rattle 
of  chains,  and  the  hideous  physiognomies  of  criminals 
always  at  work  to  the  rumbling  accompaniment  of  Cos- 
sack oaths. 

For  the  first  week  the  exercise  he  loved  best  and  the 
long  days  in  the  crisp  open  air  renewed  his  vigor,  and 
he  even  looked  forward  to  the  four  months  of  what  was 
then  the  severest  traveling  in  the  world,  in  a  boyish 
spirit  of  adventure.  He  reflected  that  he  might  as  well 
give  his  brain  a  relief  from  the  constant  revolving  of 
schemes  and  plans  for  the  advancement  of  his  country, 
his  company,  and  himself,  and  let  his  thoughts  have 
their  carnival  of  anticipation  with  the  unparalleled  hap- 
piness and  success  that  awaited  him  in  the  future.  There 
was  no  possible  doubt  of  the  acquiescence  and  assist- 
ance of  the  Tsar,  and  no  man  ever  looked  down  a  fairer 
perspective  than  he,  as  he  galloped  over  the  ugly  coun- 
try, often  far  ahead  of  his  caravan,  splashing  through 
bogs  and  streams,  fording  rivers  without  ferries,  camp- 
ing at  night  in  forests  so  dense  the  cold  never  escaped 
their  embrace,  muffled  to  the  eyes  in  furs  as  he  made  his 
way  past  valleys  whose  eternal  ice  fields  chilled  the 
country  for  miles  about;  sometimes  able  to  procure  a 


186    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

little  fresh  milk  and  butter,  oftener  not;  occasionally 
passing  a  caravan  returning  for  furs,  generally  seeing 
nothing  but  a  stray  reindeer  for  hours  together,  once 
meeting  the  post  and  finding  much  for  himself  that  in 
nowise  dampened  his  spirit. 

But  on  the  eighth  day  the  rains  began ;  a  fine  steady 
mist,  then  in  torrents  as  endless.  Wrapped  in  bear- 
skins at  night  within  the  shelter  of  a  tent  or  of  some 
wayside  hut,  and  closely  covered  by  day,  Rezanov  at 
first  merely  cursed  the  inconvenience  of  the  rain;  but 
while  crossing  the  river  Allach  Juni,  his  guides  without 
consulting  him  having  taken  him  miles  out  of  his  way 
in  order  to  avoid  the  hamlet  of  the  same  name  where  the 
small-pox  was  raging,  but  where  there  was  a  government 
ferry,  his  horse  lost  his  footing  in  the  rapid  swollen 
current  and  fell.  Kezanov  managed  to  retain  his  seat, 
and  pulled  the  frightened  plunging  beast  to  its  feet 
while  his  Cossacks  were  still  shouting  their  consterna- 
tion. But  he  was  soaked  to  the  skin,  his  personal  lug- 
gage was  in  the  same  condition,  and  they  did  not  reach 
a  hut  where  a  fire  could  be  made  until  nine  hours  later. 
It  was  then  that  the  seeds  of  malaria,  accumulated  dur- 
ing the  last  three  years  in  unsanitary  ports  and  sown 
deep  by  exceptional  hardships,  but  which  he  believed  had 
taken  themselves  off  during  his  six  weeks  in  California, 
stirred  more  vigorously  than  in  Sitka  or  Okhotsk.  He 
rode  on  the  next  day  in  a  burning  fever.  Jon,  minding 
Langsdorff's  instructions,  doctored  him — not  without 
difficulty — from  the  medicine  chest,  and  for  a  day  or 
two  the  fever  seemed  broken.  But  Jon,  sick  with  appre- 
hension, implored  him  to  turn  back.  He  might  as  well 
have  implored  the  sky  to  turn  blue. 

"How  do  you  think  men  accomplish  things  in  this 
world  ? ' '  asked  Kezanov  angrily.  '  *  By  turning  back  and 
going  to  bed  every  time  they  have  a  migraine?" 

* '  No,  Excellency, ' '  said  the  man  humbly.  ' '  But  health 
is  necessary  to  the  accomplishment  of  everything,  and  if 
the  body  is  eaten  up  with  fever " 

"What  are  drugs  for?     Give  me  the  whole  damned 


REZANOV  187 

pharmacopeia  if  you  choose,  but  don't  talk  to  me  about 
turning  back." 

"Very  well,  Excellency,"  said  Jon,  with  a  sigh. 

The  next  day  he  and  one  of  the  Cossack  guard  caught 
him  as  he  fell  from  his  horse  unconscious.  A  Yakhut 
hut,  miserable  as  it  was,  offered  in  the  persistent  down- 
pour a  better  shelter  than  the  tent.  They  carried  him 
into  it,  and  his  bedding  at  least  was  almost  as  luxuri- 
ous as  had  he  been  in  St.  Petersburg.  Jon,  at  his  wits' 
end,  remembered  the  practice  of  Langsdorff  in  similar 
cases,  and  used  the  lancet,  a  heroic  treatment  he  would 
never  have  accomplished  had  his  master  been  conscious. 
The  fever  ebbed,  and  in  a  few  days  Rezanov  was  able 
to  continue  the  journey  by  shorter  stages,  although  heavy 
with  an  intolerable  lassitude.  But  his  will  sustained  him 
until  he  reached  Yakutsk,  not  at  the  end  of  twenty-two 
days,  but  of  thirty-three.  Here  he  succumbed  immedi- 
ately, and  although  his  sick-bed  was  in  the  comfortable 
home  of  the  agent  of  the  Company,  and  he  had  medical 
attendance  of  a  sort,  his  fever  and  convalescence  lasted 
for  eight  weeks.  Then,  in  spite  of  the  supplications  of 
his  friends,  chief  among  whom  was  his  faithful  Jon,  and 
the  prohibition  of  the  doctor,  he  began  the  second  stage 
of  his  journey. 

The  road  from  Yakutsk  to  Irkutsk,  some  two  thou- 
sand six  hundred  versts,  or  fifteen  hundred  and  fifty 
English  miles,  lay  for  the  most  part  alternately  on  and 
along  the  river  Lena  in  a  southeasterly  direction;  there 
being  no  attempt  to  cross  Siberia  at  any  point  in  a 
straight  line.  By  this  time  the  river  was  frozen,  and 
the  only  concession  Rezanov  would  make  to  his  en- 
feebled frame  was  an  arrangement  to  cover  the  entire 
journey  by  private  sledge  instead  of  employing  the 
swifter  course  of  post  sledge  on  the  long  stretches  and 
horseback  on  the  shorter  cuts. 

The  weather  was  now  intensely  cold,  the  river  wind- 
ing, the  delays  many,  but  there  were  adequate  stations 
for  the  benefit  and  accommodation  of  travelers  every 
hundred  versts  or  less.  Eezanov  felt  so  invigorated  by 


188    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  long  hours  in  the  open  after  the  barbarous  close- 
ness of  his  sick  room,  that  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight  he 
was  again  possessed  with  all  his  old  ardor  of  desire  to 
reach  the  end  of  his  journey.  He  vowed  he  was  well 
again,  abandoned  his  comfortable  sledge,  and  pushed  on 
in  the  common  manner.  In  the  wretched  post  sledges 
he  was  often  exposed  to  the  full  violence  of  a  Siberian 
winter,  and  although  the  horseback  exercise  stirred  his 
blood  and  refreshed  him  for  the  moment,  he  suffered  in 
reaction  and  was  several  times  forced  to  remain  two 
nights  instead  of  one  at  a  station.  But  he  was  muf- 
fled in  sables  to  his  very  eyes,  and  the  road  was  divert- 
ing, often  beautiful,  with  its  Gothic  mountains,  its  white 
plains  set  with  villages  and  farms,  the  high  thin  crosses 
above  the  open  or  swelling  domes  of  the  little  churches. 
Sometimes  the  Lena  narrowed  until  its  frozen  surface 
looked  like  a  mass  of  ice  that  had  ground  its  way  be- 
tween perpendicular  walls  or  overhanging  masses  of 
rock  that  awaited  the  next  convulsion  of  nature  to  close 
the  pass  altogether.  Then  the  dogs  trotted  past  caves 
and  grottos,  left  the  abrupt  and  craggy  banks,  crossed 
level  plains  once  more;  where  herds  of  cattle  grazed  in 
the  summertime,  now  a  vast  uncheckered  expanse  of 
white.  The  Government  and  Company  agents  fawned 
upon  him,  the  best  of  horses  and  beds,  food  and  wine, 
were  eagerly  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  favorite  of  the 
Tsar.  Rezanov  's  spirit,  always  of  the  finest  temper,  suf- 
fered no  eclipse  for  many  days.  He  reveled  in  the  be- 
lief that  his  sorely  tried  body  was  regenerating  its  old 
vigors. 

From  Wercholensk  to  Katschuk  the  journey  was  so 
winding  by  river  that  it  consumed  more  than  twice  the 
time  of  the  land  route,  which  although  only  thirty  versts 
in  extent  was  one  of  the  most  difficult  in  Siberia.  Re- 
zanov chose  the  latter  without  hesitation,  and  would 
listen  to  no  dissuasion  from  the  Commissary  of  the  little 
town  or  from  his  distracted  Jon:  the  journey  from 
Yakutsk  had  now  lasted  five  weeks  and  the  servant's 
watchful  eye  noted  signs  of  exhaustion. 


REZANOV  189 

The  hills  were  very  high  and  very  steep,  the  roads  but 
a  name  in  summer.  Had  not  the  snow  been  soft  and 
thin,  the  horses  could  not  have  made  the  ascent  at  all; 
and,  as  it  was,  the  riders  were  forced  to  walk  the  greater 
part  of  the  way  and  drag  their  unwilling  steeds  behind 
them.  They  were  twelve  hours  covering  the  thirty 
versts,  and  at  Katschuk  Rezanov  succumbed  for  two 
days,  while  Jon  scoured  the  country  in  search  of  a 
telega ;  as  sometimes  happened  there  was  a  long  stretch 
of  country  without  snow,  and  sledges,  by  far  the  most 
comfortable  method  of  travel  in  Siberia,  could  not  be 
used.  The  rest  of  the  journey,  but  one  hundred  and 
ninety-six  versts,  must  be  made  by  land.  Rezanov  ad- 
mitted that  he  was  too  weary  to  ride,  and  refused  to 
travel  in  the  post  carriage.  On  the  third  day  the  serv- 
ant managed  to  hire  a  telega  from  a  superior  farmer  and 
they  started  immediately,  the  heavy  luggage  having  been 
consigned  to  a  merchant  vessel  at  Yakutsk. 

Rezanov  stood  the  telega  exactly  half  a  day.  Little 
larger  than  an  armchair  and  far  lighter,  it  was  drawn 
by  horses  that  galloped  up  and  down  hill  and  across  the 
intervening  valleys  with  no  change  of  gait,  and  over  a 
road  so  rough  that  the  little  vehicle  seemed  to  be  pro- 
pelled by  a  succession  of  earthquakes.  Rezanov,  in  a 
fever  which  he  attributed  to  rage,  dismissed  the  telega 
at  a  village  and  'awaited  the  coming  of  Jon,  who  fol- 
lowed on  horseback  wjth  the  personal  luggage. 

It  was  a  village  of  wooden  houses  built  in  the  Rus- 
sian fashion,  and  inhabited  by  a  dignified  tribe  wearing 
long  white  garments  bordered  with  fur.  They  spoke 
Russian,  a  language  little  heard  farther  north  and  east 
in  Siberia,  and  when  Rezanov  declined  their  hospitality 
they  dispatched  a  courier  at  once  to  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral of  Irkutsk  acquainting  him  with  the  condition  of 
the  Chamberlain  and  of  his  imminent  arrival.  In  con- 
sequence, when  Rezanov  drew  rein  two  days  later  and 
looked  down  upon  the  city  of  Irkutsk  with  its  pleasant 
squares  and  great  stone  buildings  beside  the  shining 
river,  the  gilded  domes  and  crosses  of  its  thirty  churches 


190    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

and  convents  glittering  in  the  sun,  the  whole  picture 
beckoning  to  the  delirious  brain  of  the  traveler  like 
some  mirage  of  the  desert,  his  appearance  was  the  signal 
for  a  salute  from  the  fort;  and  the  Governor-General, 
privy  counselor  and  senator  de  Pestel,  accompanied  by 
the  civil  governor,  the  commandant,  and  the  archbishop, 
and  with  a  military  escort,  sallied  forth  and  led  the 
guest,  with  the  formality  of  officials  and  the  compassion- 
ate tenderness  of  men,  into  the  capital. 

For  three  weeks  longer  Rezanov  lay  in  the  palace  of 
the  Governor.  Between  fever  and  lassitude,  his  iron  will 
seemed  alternately  to  melt  in  the  fiery  furnace  of  his 
body,  then,  a  cooling  but  still  viscous  and  formless  mass, 
sink  to  the  utmost  depths  of  his  being.  But  here  he  had 
the  best  of  nursing  and  attendance,  rallied  finally  and 
insisted  upon  continuing  his  journey.  His  doctor  made 
the  less  demur  as  the  traveling  was  far  smoother  now, 
in  the  early  days  of  March,  than  it  would  be  a  month 
hence,  when  the  snow  was  thinner  and  the  sledges  were 
no  longer  possible.  Nevertheless,  he  announced  his  in- 
tention to  accompany  him  as  far  as  Krasnoiarsk,  where 
the  Chamberlain  could  lodge  in  the  house  of  the  princi- 
pal magistrate  of  the  place,  Counselor  Keller,  and,  if 
necessary,  be  able  to  command  fair  nursing  and  medical 
attendance;  and  to  this  Eezanov  indifferently  assented. 

The  prospect  of  continuing  his  journey  and  the  bustle 
of  preparation  raised  the  spirits  of  the  invalid  and  gave 
him  a  fictitious  energy.  He  had  fought  depression  and 
despair  in  all  his  conscious  moments,  never  admitted  that 
the  devastation  in  his  body  was  mortal.  With  but  a 
remnant  of  his  former  superb  strength,  and  emaciated 
beyond  recognition,  he  attended  a  banquet  on  the  night 
preceding  his  departure,  and  on  the  following  morning 
stood  up  in  his  sledge  and  acknowledged  the  God-speed 
of  the  population  of  Irkutsk  assembled  in  the  square 
before  the  palace  of  the  Governor.  All  his  life  he  had 
excited  interest  wherever  he  went,  but  never  to  such  a 
degree  as  on  that  last  journey  when  he  made  his  desper- 
ate fight  for  life  and  happiness. 


XXVII 

THE  snow  rarely  falls  in  Krasnoiarsk.  It  is  a  little 
oasis  in  the  great  winter  desert  of  Siberia.  Rezanov, 
his  face  turned  to  the  window,  could  see  the  red  banks 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  The  sun  transformed 
the  gilded  cupolas  and  crosses  into  dazzling  points  of 
light,  and  the  sky  above  the  spires  and  towers,  the  state- 
ly square  and  narrow  dirty  streets  of  the  bustling  little 
capital,  was  as  blue  and  un flecked  as  that  which  arched 
so  high  above  a  land  where  Castilian  roses  grew,  and 
one  woman  among  a  gay  and  thoughtless  people  dreamed, 
with  all  the  passion  of  her  splendid  youth,  of  the  man 
to  whom  she  had  pledged  an  eternal  troth.  Rezanov 's 
mind  was  clear  in  those  last  moments,  but  something  of 
the  serenity  and  the  selfishness  of  death  had  already  de- 
scended upon  him.  He  heard  with  indifference  the  sobs 
of  Jon,  crouched  at  the  foot  of  his  bed.  Tears  and  re- 
grets were  a  part  of  the  general  futility  of  life,  insig- 
nificant enough  at  the  grand  threshold  of  death. 

No  doubt  that  his  great  schemes  would  die  with  him, 
and  were  he  remembered  at  all  it  would  be  as  a  dreamer ; 
or  as  a  failure  because  he  had  died  before  accomplishing 
what  his  brain  and  energy  and  enthusiasm  alone  could 
force  to  fruition.  None  realized  better  than  he  the 
paucity  of  initiative  and  executive  among  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  Slav.  What  mattered  it?  He  had  had 
glimpses  more  than  once  of  the  apparently  illogical  se- 
quence of  life,  the  vanity  of  human  effort,  the  wanton 
cruelty  of  Nature.  He  had  known  men  struck  down 
before  in  the  maturity  of  their  usefulness,  cities  de- 
stroyed by  earthquake  or  hurricane  in  the  fairest  and 
most  promising  of  their  days:  public  men,  priests,  par- 
ents, children,  wantons,  criminals,  blotted  out  with  equal 

191 


192    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

impartiality  by  a  brutal  force  that  would  seem  to  have 
but  a  casual  use  for  the  life  she  flung  broadcast  on  her 
planets.  Man  was  the  helpless  victim  of  Nature,  a  calf 
in  a  tiger's  paws.  If  she  overlooked  him,  or  swept  him 
contemptuously  into  the  class  of  her  favorites,  well  and 
good;  otherwise  he  was  her  sport,  the  plaything  of  her 
idler  moments.  Those  that  cried  "But  why?"  "What 
reason?"  "What  use?"  were  those  that  had  never 
looked  over  the  walls  of  their  ego  at  the  great  dramatic 
moments  in  the  career  of  Nature,  when  she  made  im- 
mortal fame  for  herself  at  the  expense  of  millions  of 
pigmies. 

And  if  his  energies,  his  talents,  his  usefulness,  were 
held  of  no  account,  at  least  he  could  look  back  upon  a 
past  when  he  would  have  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  few 
supreme  favorites  of  the  forces  that  shaped  man's  life 
and  destiny.  Until  he  had  started  from  Kronstadt  four 
years  before  on  a  voyage  that  had  humiliated  his  proud 
spirit  more  than  once,  and  undermined  as  splendid  a 
physique  as  ever  was  granted  to  even  a  Eussian,  he  had 
rolled  the  world  under  his  foot.  With  an  appearance 
and  a  personal  magnetism,  gifts  of  mind  and  manner  and 
character  that  would  have  commanded  attention  amid 
the  general  flaccidity  of  his  race  and  conquered  life  with- 
out the  great  social  advantages  he  inherited,  he  had  en- 
joyed power  and  pleasure  to  a  degree  that  would  have 
spoiled  a  coarser  nature  long  since.  True,  the  time  had 
come  when  he  had  cared  little  for  any  of  his  endow- 
ments save  as  a  means  to  great  ends,  when  all  his  ener- 
gies had  concentrated  in  the  determination  to  live  a  life 
of  the  highest  possible  usefulness — without  which  man's 
span  was  but  existence — his  ambitions  had  cohered  and 
been  driven  steadily  toward  a  permanent  niche  in  his- 
tory ;  then  paled  and  dissolved  for  an  hour  in  the  glori- 
ous vision  of  human  happiness. 

And  wholly  as  he  might  realize  man's  insignificance 
among  the  blind  forces  of  nature,  he  could  accept  it 
philosophically  and  die  with  his  soul  uncorroded  by  mis- 
anthropy,  that  final  and  uncompromising  admission  of 


REZANOV  193 

failure.  The  misanthrope  was  the  supreme  failure  of 
life  because  he  had  not  the  intelligence  to  realize,  or 
could  not  reconcile  himself  to,  the  incomplete  condition 
of  human  nature.  Man  was  made  up  of  little  qualities, 
and  aspirations  for  great  ones.  Many  yielded  in  the 
struggle  and  sank  into  impotent  discontent  among  the 
small  material  things  of  life,  instead  of  uplifting  them- 
selves with  the  picture  of  the  inevitable  future  when 
development  had  run  its  course,  and  indulgently  pity- 
ing the  children  of  their  own  period  who  so  often  made 
life  hateful  with  their  greed,  selfishness,  snobbery — 
most  potent  obstacle  to  human  endeavor — and  injustice. 
The  bad  judgment  of  the  mass!  How  many  careers  it 
had  balked,  if  not  ruined,  with  its  poor  ideals,  its  mean 
heroes,  its  instinctive  avoidance  of  superior  qualities 
foreign  to  itself,  its  contemptible  desire  to  be  identified 
with  a  fashion.  It  was  this  low  standard  of  the  crowd 
that  induced  misanthropy  in  many  otherwise  brave  spir- 
its who  lacked  the  insight  to  discern  the  divine  spark 
underneath,  the  persistence,  sure  of  reward,  to  fight 
their  way  to  this  spark  and  reveal  it  to  the  gaze  of  as- 
tonished and  flattered  humanity.  Rezanov's  very  arro- 
gance had  led  him  to  regard  the  mass  of  mankind  as  but 
one  degree  removed  from  the  nursery;  his  good  nature 
and  philosophical  spirit  to  treat  them  with  an  indul- 
gence that  kept  sourness  out  of  his  cynicism  and  inevit- 
ably recurring  weariness  and  disgust ;  his  ardent  imagi- 
nation had  consoled  itself  with  the  vision  of  a  future 
when  man  should  live  in  a  world  made  reasonable  by 
the  triumph  of  ideals  that  now  lurked  half  ashamed  in 
the  high  spaces  of  the  human  mind. 

He  looked  back  in  wonder  at  the  moment  of  wild 
regret  and  protest — the  bitterer  in  its  silence — when  they 
had  told  him  he  must  die ;  when  in  the  last  rally  of  the 
vital  forces  he  had  believed  his  will  was  still  strong 
enough  to  command  his  ravaged  body,  to  propel  his 
brain,  still  teeming  with  a  vast  and  complicated  future, 
his  heart,  still  warm  and  insistent  with  the  image  it 
cherished,  on  to  the  ultimates  of  ambition  and  love. 


194    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

How  brief  it  had  been,  that  last  cry  of  mortality,  with 
its  accompaniment  of  furious  wonder  at  his  unseemly 
and  senseless  cutting  off.  In  the  adjustment  and  read- 
justment of  political  and  natural  forces  the  world  am- 
bled on  philosophically,  fulfilling  its  inevitable  destiny. 

If  he  had  not  been  beyond  humor,  he  would  have 
smiled  at  the  idea  that  in  the  face  of  all  eternity  it  mat- 
tered what  nation  on  one  little  planet  eventually  pos- 
sessed a  fragment  called  California.  To  him  that  fair 
land  was  empty  and  purposeless  save  for  one  figure, 
and  even  of  her  he  thought  with  the  terrible  calm  of 
dissolution.  During  these  last  months  of  illness  and 
isolation  he  had  been  less  lonely  than  at  any  time  of  his 
life  save  during  those  few  weeks  in  California,  for  he 
had  lived  with  her  incessantly  in  spirit;  and  in  that 
subtle  imaginative  communion  had  pressed  close  to  a 
profound  and  complex  soul,  revealed  before  only  in 
flashes  to  a  vision  astray  in  the  confusion  of  the  senses. 
He  had  felt  that  her  response  to  his  passion  was  far 
more  vital  and  enduring  than  dwelt  in  the  capacity  of 
most  women;  he  had  appreciated  her  gifts  of  mind,  her 
piquant  variousness  that  scotched  monotony,  the  ad- 
mirable characteristics  that  would  give  a  man  repose 
and  content  in  his  leisure,  and  subtly  advance  his  career. 
But  in  those  long  reveries,  at  the  head  of  his  forlorn 
caravan  or  in  the  desolate  months  of  convalescence,  he 
had  arrived  at  an  absolute  understanding  of  what  she 
herself  had  divined  while  half  comprehending. 

Theirs  was  one  of  the  few  immortal  loves  that  reveal 
the  rarely  sounded  deeps  of  the  soul  while  in  its  frail 
tenement  on  earth;  and  he  harbored  not  a  doubt  that 
their  love  was  stronger  than  mortality  and  that  their 
ultimate  union  was  decreed.  Meanwhile,  she  would  suf- 
fer, no  one  but  he  could  dream  how  completely,  but  her 
strong  soul  would  conquer,  and  she  would  live  the  life 
she  had  visioned  in  moments  of  despair ;  not  of  cloistered 
selfishness,  but  of  incomparable  usefulness  to  her  little 
world;  and  far  happier,  in  her  eternal  youthfulness  of 


REZANOV  195 

heart,  in  that  divine  life  of  the  imagination  where  he 
must  always  be  with  her  as  she  had  known  him  briefly 
at  his  best,  than  in  the  blunt  eommonplaceness  of  daily 
existence,  the  routine  and  disillusionment  of  the  world. 
Perhaps — who  knew? — he  had,  after  all,  given  her  the 
best  that  man  can  offer  to  a  woman  of  exalted  nature; 
instead  of  taking  again  with  his  left  hand  what  his  right 
had  bestowed ;  completed  the  great  gift  of  life  with  the 
priceless  beacon  of  death. 

How  unlike  was  life  to  the  old  Greek  tragedies!  He 
recalled  his  prophetic  sense  of  impending  happiness, 
success,  triumph,  as  he  entered  California,  the  rejuve- 
nescence of  his  spirit  in  the  renewal  of  his  wasted  forces 
even  before  he  loved  the  woman.  Every  event  of  the 
past  year,  in  spite  of  the  obstacles  that  mortal  must  ex- 
pect, had  marched  with  his  ambitions  and  desires,  and 
straight  toward  a  future  that  would  have  given  him  the 
most  coveted  of  all  destinies,  a  station  in  history.  There 
had  not  been  a  hint  that  his  brain,  so  meaningly  and 
consummately  equipped,  would  perish  in  the  ruins  of 
his  body  in  less  than  a  twelvemonth  from  that  fragrant 
morning  when  he  had  entered  the  home  of  Concha  Ar- 
giiello  tingling  with  a  pagan  joy  in  mere  existence,  a 
sudden  rush  of  desire  for  the  keen  wild  happiness  of 
youth 

His  eyes  wandered  from  the  bright  cross  above  the 
little  cemetery  where  he  was  to  lie,  and  contracted  with 
an  expression  of  wonder.  Where  had  Jon  found  Cas- 
tilian  roses  in  this  barren  land  ?  No  man  had  ever  been 

more  blest  in  a  servant,  but  could  even  he — here 

With  the  last  triumph  of  will  over  matter  he  raised  his 
head,  his  keen  searching  gaze  noting  every  detail  of  the 
room,  bare  and  unlovely  save  for  its  altar  and  ikons,  its 
kneeling  priests  and  nuns.  His  eyes  expanded,  his  nos- 
trils quivered.  As  he  sank  down  in  the  embrace  of  that 
final  delusion,  his  unconquerably  sanguine  spirit  flared 
high  before  a  vision  of  eternal  and  unthinkable  happi- 
ness. 


196    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

So  died  Rezanov ;  and  with  him  the  hope  of  Kussians 
and  the  hindrance  of  Americans  in  the  west;  and  the 
mortal  happiness  and  earthly  dross  of  the  saintliest  of 
California 's  women. 


AUTHORITIES 

Bancroft's  "History  of  California" 

Bancroft's  "History  of  Alaska" 

Hittell's  "History  of  California" 

Tikhmenev's  "Historical  Review  of  the  Origin  of  the 

Russian- American  Company ' ' 

Rezanov-Zapiski  Correspondence  (Russian  Archives) 
Langsdorff's  "Voyages  and  Travels" 
Krusenstern's  "Voyage  Round  the  World" 
Russian  Encyclopedia 
(And  Private  Sources) 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN 


TO 
STEPHEN  FRANKLIN 


[201] 


THE   DOOMSWOMAN 


CHAPTER   I 

IT  was  at  Governor  Alvarado's  house  in  Monterey  that 
Chonita  first  knew  of  Diego  Estenega.  I  had  told  him 
much  of  her,  but  never  had  cared  to  mention  the  name 
of  Estenega  in  the  presence  of  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada. 

Chonita  came  to  Monterey  to  stand  god-mother  to  the 
child  of  Alvarado  and  of  her  friend  Dona  Martina,  his 
wife.  She  arrived  the  morning  before  the  christening, 
and  no  one  thought  to  tell  her  that  Estenega  was  to  be 
godfather.  The  house  was  full  of  girls,  relatives  of  the 
young  mother,  gathered  for  the  ceremony  and  subse- 
quent week  of  festivities.  Benicia,  my  little  one,  was  at 
the  rancho  with  Ysabel  Herrera,  and  I  was  staying  with 
the  Alvarados.  So  many  were  the  guests  that  Chonita 
and  I  slept  together.  We  had  not  seen  each  other  for  a 
year,  and  had  so  much  to  say  that  we  did  not  sleep  at 
all.  She  was  ten  years  younger  than  I,  but  we  were  as 
close  friends  as  she,  with  her  alternate  frankness  and 
reserve,  would  permit.  But  I  had  spent  several  months 
of  each  year  since  childhood  at  her  home  in  Santa  Bar- 
bara, and  I  knew  her  better  than  she  knew  herself; 
when,  later,  I  read  her  journal,  I  found  little  in  it  to 
surprise  me,  but  much  to  fill  and  cover  with  shapely 
form  the  skeleton  of  the  story  which  passed  in  greater 
part  before  my  eyes. 

We  were  discussing  the  frivolous  mysteries  of  dress, 
if  I  remember  aright,  when  she  laid  her  hand  on  my 
mouth  suddenly. 

"Hush!"  she  said. 

203 


204    BEFORE  THE  GRINQO  CAME 

A  caballero  serenaded  his  lady  at  midnight  in  Mon- 
terey. 

The  tinkle  of  a  guitar,  the  jingling  of  spurs,  fell 
among  the  strong  tones  of  a  man's  voice. 

Chonita  had  been  serenaded  until  she  had  fled  to  the 
mountains  for  sleep,  but  she  crept  to  the  foot  of  the 
bed  and  knelt  there,  her  hand  at  her  throat.  A  door 
opened,  and,  one  by  one,  out  of  the  black  beyond,  five 
white-robed  forms  flitted  into  the  room.  They  looked 
like  puffs  of  smoke  from  a  burning  moon.  The  heavy 
wooden  shutters  were  open,  and  the  room  was  filled  with 
a  cold  light. 

The  girls  waltzed  on  the  bare  floor,  grouped  them- 
selves in  mock-dramatic  postures,  then,  overcome  by 
the  strange  magnetism  of  the  singer,  fell  into  motionless 
attitudes,  listening  intently.  How  well  I  remember  that 
picture,  although  I  have  almost  forgotten  the  names  of 
the  girls ! 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  two  slender  figures  embraced 
each  other,  their  black  hair  falling  loosely  over  their 
white  gowns.  On  the  window-step  knelt  a  tall  girl,  her 
head  pensively  supported  by  her  hand,  a  black  shawl 
draped  gracefully  about  her ;  at  her  feet  sat  a  girl  with 
head  bowed  to  her  knees.  Between  the  two  groups  was 
a  solitary  figure,  kneeling  with  hand  pressed  to  the  wall 
and  face  uplifted. 

When  the  voice  ceased  I  struck  a  match,  and  five  pairs 
of  little  hands  applauded  enthusiastically.  He  sang 
them  another  song,  then  galloped  away. 

"It  is  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  one  of  the  girls. 
"He  rarely  sings,  but  I  have  heard  him  before." 

"An  Estenega!"  exclaimed  Chonita. 

"Yes ;  of  the  North,  you  know.  His  Excellency  thinks 
there  is  no  man  in  the  Californias  like  him,  so  bold  and 
so  clever.  You  remember  the  books  that  were  burned 
by  the  priests  when  the  Governor  was  a  boy,  because  he 
had  dared  to  read  them  ?  No  ?  Well,  when  Diego  Este- 
nega heard  of  that,  he  made  his  father  send  to  Boston 
and  Mexico  for  those  books  and  many  more,  and  took 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  205 

them  up  to  his  redwood  forests  in  the  north,  far  away 
from  the  priests.  And  they  say  he  had  read  other  hooks 
before,  although  such  a  lad ;  his  father  had  brought  them 
from  Spain,  and  never  cared  much  for  the  priests..  And 
he  has  been  to  Mexico  and  America  and  Europe !  God 
of  my  soul !  it  is  said  that  he  knows  more  than  his  Ex- 
cellency himself,  that  his  mind  works  faster.  Ay!  but 
there  was  a  time  when  he  was  wild,  when  the  mescal 
burnt  his  throat  like  hornets  and  the  aguardiente  was 
like  scorpions  in  his  brain;  but  that  was  long  ago,  be- 
fore he  was  twenty ;  now  he  is  thirty-four.  He  amuses 
himself  sometimes  with  the  girls — valgame  Dios!  he  has 
made  hot  tears  flow;  but  I  suppose  we  do  not  know 
enough  for  him,  for  he  marries  none.  Ay!  but  he  has 
a  charm. " 

"Like  what  does  he  look?  A  beautiful  caballero,  I 
suppose,  with  eyes  that  melt  and  a  mouth  that  trembles 
like  a  woman  in  the  palsy. ' ' 

"Ay,  no,  my  Chonita;  you  are  wrong.  He  is  not 
beautiful  at  all.  He  is  rather  haggard,  and  wears  no 
mustache,  and  he  has  the  profile  of  the  great  man,  fine 
and  aquiline  and  severe,  save  when  he  smiles,  and  then 
sometimes  he  looks  kind  and  sometimes  he  looks  like  a 
devil.  He  has  not  the  beauty  of  color ;  his  hair  is  brown, 
I  think,  and  his  eyes  are  gray,  and  set  far  back;  but 
how  they  flash !  I  think  they  could  burn  if  they  looked 
too  long.  He  is  tall  and  straight  and  very  strong,  not 
so  indolent  as  most  of  our  men.  They  call  him  the 
American  because  he  moves  so  quickly  and  gets  so  cross 
when  people  do  not  think  fast  enough.  He  thinks  like 
lightning  strikes.  Ay !  they  all  say  that  he  will  be  Gov- 
ernor in  his  time;  that  he  would  have  been  long  ago, 
but  he  has  been  away  so  much.  It  must  be  that  he  has 
seen  and  admired  you,  my  Chonita,  and  discovered  your 
grating.  You  are  happy  that  you  too  have  read  the 
books.  You  and  he  will  be  great  friends,  I  know ! ' ' 

"Yes!"  exclaimed  Chonita  scornfully.  "It  is  likely. 
You  have  forgotten — perhaps — the  enmity  between  the 


206    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Capulets  and  the  Montagues  was  a  sallow  flame  to  the 
bitter  hatred,  born  of  jealousy  in  love,  politics,  and 
social  precedence,  which  exists  between  the  Estenegas 
and  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas  ? ' ' 
Ah !    We  took  our  California  seriously  in  those  days. 


CHAPTER  II 

DELFINA,  the  first  child  of  Alvarado,  born  in  the  purple 
at  the  Governor's  mansion  in  Monterey,  in  the  year  of 
our  Lord  1840,  was  about  to  be  baptized  with  all  the 
pomp  and  ceremony  of  the  Church  and  time.  Dona 
Martina,  the  wife  of  a  year,  was  unable  to  go  to  the 
church,  but  lay  beneath  her  lace  and  satin  coverlet,  her 
heavy  black  hair  half  covering  the  other  side  of  the  bed. 
Beside  her  stood  the  nurse,  a  fat,  brown,  high-beaked  old 
crone,  holding  a  mass  of  grunting  lace.  I  stood  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  admiring  the  picture. 

"Be  careful  for  the  sun,  T  omasa,"  said  the  mother. 
"Her  eyes  must  be  strong,  like  the  Alvarados' — black 
and  keen  and  strong. ' ' 

"Si,  senora." 

"And  let  her  not  smother,  nor  yet  take  cold.  She 
must  grow  tall  and  strong — like  the  Alvarados. ' ' 

"Si,  senora. " 

"Where  is  his  Excellency?" 

"I  am  here."  And  Alvarado  entered  the  room.  He 
looked  amused,  and  probably  had  overheard  the  conver- 
sation. He  justified,  however,  the  admiration  of  his 
young  wife.  His  tall  military  figure  had  the  perfect 
poise  and  suggestion  of  power  natural  to  a  man  whose 
genius  had  been  recognized  by  the  Mexican  government 
before  he  had  entered  his  twenties.  The  clean-cut  face, 
with  its  calm  profile  and  fiery  eyes,  was  not  that  of  the 
Washington  of  his  emulation,  and  I  never  understood 
why  he  chose  so  tame  a  model.  Perhaps  because  of  the 
meagerness  of  that  early  proscribed  literature ;  or  did  the 
title,  "Father  of  His  Country/'  appeal  irresistibly  to 
that  lofty  and  doomed  ambition  ? 

207 


208    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

He  passed  his  hand  over  his  wife 's  long  white  fingers, 
but  did  not  offer  her  any  other  caress  in  my  presence. 

11  How  do  you  feel?" 

"Well;  but  I  shall  be  lonely.  Do  not  stay  long  at 
the  church,  no?  How  glad  I  am  that  Chonita  came  in 
time  for  the  christening!  What  a  beautiful  comadre 
she  will  be !  I  have  just  seen  her.  Ay,  poor  Diego !  he 
will  fall  in  love  with  her;  and  what  then?" 

"It  would  have  been  better  had  she  come  too  late,  I 
think.  To  avoid  asking  Diego  to  stand  for  my  first  child 
was  impossible,  for  he  is  the  man  of  men  to  me.  To 
avoid  asking  Dona  Chonita  was  equally  impossible,  I 
suppose,  and  it  will  be  painful  for  both.  He  serenaded 
her  last  night,  not  knowing  who  she  was,  but  having  seen 
her  at  her  grating;  he  only  returned  yesterday.  I  hope 
she  plants  no  thorns  in  his  heart. ' ' 

"Perhaps  they  will  marry  and  bind  the  wounds," 
suggested  the  woman. 

"An  Estenega  and  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  will  not 
marry.  He  might  forget,  for  he  is  passionate  and  of  a 
nature  to  break  down  barriers  when  a  wish  is  dear ;  but 
she  has  all  the  wrongs  of  all  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas  on 
her  white  shoulders,  and  all  their  pride  in  the  carriage 
of  her  head;  to  say  nothing  of  that  brother  whom  she 
adores.  She  learned  this  morning  that  it  was  Diego's 
determined  opposition  that  kept  Reinaldo  out  of  the 
Departmental  Junta,  and  meets  him  in  no  tender  frame 
of  mind " 

Dona  Martina  raised  her  hand.  Chonita  stood  in 
the  doorway.  She  was  quite  beautiful  enough  to  plant 
thorns  where  she  listed.  Her  tall  supple  figure  was 
clothed  in  white,  and  over  her  gold  hair — warm  and 
bright,  but  without  a  tinge  of  red — she  wore  a  white 
lace  mantilla.  Her  straight  narrow  brows  and  heavy 
lashes  were  black;  but  her  skin  was  very  white.  Her 
nose  was  finely  cut,  the  arch  almost  indiscernible;  and 
she  had  the  most  sculptured  mouth  I  have  ever  seen. 
Her  long  eyes  were  green,  dark,  luminous.  Sometimes 
they  had  the  look  of  a  child,  sometimes  she  allowed  them 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  209 

to  flash  with  the  fire  of  an  animated  spirit.  But  the  ex- 
pression she  chose  to  cultivate  was  that  associated  with 
crowned  head  and  sceptered  hand;  and  sure  no  queen 
had  ever  looked  so  calm,  so  inexorable,  so  haughty,  so 
terribly  clear  of  vision.  She  never  posed — for  any  one, 
at  least,  but  herself.  For  some  reason — a  youthful  rea- 
son probably — the  iron  in  her  nature  was  most  admired 
by  her.  Wherefore — also,  as  she  had  the  power,  as  twin, 
to  heal  and  curse — I  had  named  her  The  Doomswoman, 
and  by  this  name  she  was  known  far  and  wide.  By  the 
lower  class  of  Santa  Barbara  she  was  called  The  Golden 
Senorita,  on  account  of  her  hair  and  of  her  father's  vast 
wealth. 

"Come,"  she  said,  " everyone  is  waiting.  Do  not  you 
hear  the  voices  ? ' ' 

The  windows  were  closed,  but  through  them  came  a 
murmur  like  that  of  a  pine  forest. 

The  Governor  motioned  to  the  nurse  to  follow  Chonita 
and  me,  and  she  trotted  after  us,  her  ugly  face 
beaming  with  pride  of  position.  Was  not  in  her  arms 
the  oldest-born  of  a  new  generation  of  Alvarados?  the 
daughter  of  the  Governor  of  The  Calif ornias?  Her 
smock,  embroidered  with  silk,  was  new,  and  looked 
whiter  than  sea  spray  against  her  bare  brown  arms  and 
face.  Her  short  red  satin  skirt,  a  gift  of  her  happy 
lady's,  was  the  finest  ever  worn  by  exultant  nurse. 
About  her  stringy  old  throat  was  a  gold  chain;  bright 
red  roses  were  woven  in  her  black  reboso.  I  saw  her 
admire  Chonita 's  stately  figure,  with  scornful  reserve  of 
the  colorless  gown. 

We  were  followed  in  a  moment  by  the  Governor, 
adjusting  his  collar  and  smoothing  his  hair.  As  he 
reached  the  doorway  at  the  front  of  the  house  he  was 
greeted  with  a  shout  from  assembled  Monterey.  The 
plaza  was  gay  with  beaming  faces  and  bright  attire. 
The  men,  women,  and  children  of  the  people  were  on 
foot,  a  mass  of  color  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plaza; 
the  women  in  gaudy  cotton  frocks  girt  with  silken 
sashes,  tawdry  jewels,  and  spotless  camisas,  the  coquet- 


210    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

tish  reboso  draping  with  equal  grace  faces  old  and 
brown,  faces  round  and  olive;  the  men  in  glazed  som- 
breros, short  calico  jackets  and  trousers;  Indians  wound 
up  in  gala  blankets.  In  the  foreground,  on  prancing 
silver-trapped  horses,  were  caballeros  and  donas,  laugh- 
ing and  coquetting,  looking  down  in  triumph  upon  the 
duenas  and  parents  who  rode  older  and  milder  mus- 
tangs and  shook  brown  knotted  fingers  at  heedless  youth. 
The  young  men  had  ribbons  twisted  in  their  long  black 
hair,  and  silver  eagles  on  their  soft  gray  sombreros. 
Their  velvet  serapes  were  embroidered  with  gold;  the 
velvet  knee-breeches  were  laced  with  gold  or  silver  cord 
over  fine  white  linen ;  long  deerskin  botas  were  gartered 
with  vivid  ribbon;  flaunting  sashes  bound  their  slender 
waists,  knotted  over  the  hip.  The  girls  and  young  mar- 
ried women  wore  black  or  white  mantillas,  the  silken  lace 
of  Spain,  regardless  of  the  sun  which  might  darken 
their  Castilian  fairness.  Their  gowns  were  of  flowered 
silk  or  red  or  yellow  satin,  the  waist  long  and  pointed, 
the  skirt  full;  jeweled  buckles  of  tiny  slippers  flashed 
Beneath  the  hem.  The  old  people  were  in  rich  dress  of 
sober  color.  A  few  Americans  were  there  in  the  ugly 
garb  of  their  country,  a  blot  on  the  picture. 

At  the  door,  just  in  front  of  the  cavalcade,  stood 
General  Vallejo's  carriage,  the  only  one  in  California, 
sent  from  Sonoma  for  the  occasion.  Beside  it  were 
three  superbly  trapped  horses. 

The  Governor  placed  the  swelling  nurse  in  the  car- 
riage, then  glanced  about  him.  * '  Where  is  Estenega  ? — 
and  the  Castros  ? ' '  he  asked. 

" There  are  Don  Jose  and  Dona  Modeste  Castro,"  said 
Chonita. 

The  crowd  had  parted  suddenly,  and  two  men  and  a 
woman  rode  toward  the  Governor.  One  of  the  men  was 
tall  and  dark,  and  his  somber  military  attire  became  the 
stern  sadness  of  his  face.  Castro  was  not  Comandante- 
General  of  the  army  at  that  time,  but  his  bearing  was 
as  imperious  in  that  year  of  1840  as  when  six  years  later 
the  American  Occupation  closed  forever  the  career  of  a 


THE  DOOMS  WOMAN  211 

man  made  in  derision  for  greatness.  At  his  right  rode 
his  wife,  one  of  the  most  queenly  beauties  of  her  time, 
small  as  she  was  in  stature.  Every  woman's  eye  turned 
to  her  at  once;  she  was  our  leader  of  fashion,  and  we 
all  copied  the  gowns  that  came  to  her  from  the  city  of 
Mexico. 

But  Chonita  gave  no  heed  to  the  Castros.  She  fixed 
her  cold  direct  regard  on  the  man  who  rode  with  them, 
and  who,  she  knew,  must  be  Diego  Estenega,  for  he  was 
their  guest.  She  was  curious  to  see  this  enemy  of  her 
house,  the  political  rival  of  her  brother,  the  owner  of  the 
voice  which  had  given  her  the  first  thrill  of  her  life.  He 
was  dressed  as  plainly  as  Castro,  and  had  none  of  the 
rich  southern  beauty  of  the  caballeros.  His  hair  was 
cut  short  like  Alvarado's,  and  his  face  was  thin  and 
almost  sallow.  But  the  life  that  was  in  that  face,  the 
passion,  the  intelligence,  the  kindness,  the  humor,  the 
grim  determination !  And  what  splendid  vitality  was  in 
his  tall  thin  figure,  and  nervous  activity  under  the  re- 
pose of  his  carriage!  I  remember  I  used  to  think  in 
those  days  that  Diego  Estenega  could  conquer  the  world 
if  he  wished,  although  I  suspected  that  he  lacked  one 
quality  of  the  great  rulers  of  men — inexorable  cruelty. 

From  the  moment  his  horse  carried  him  into  the  plaza 
he  did  not  remove  his  eyes  from  Chonita 's  face.  She 
lowered  hers  angrily  after  a  moment.  As  he  reached 
the  house  he  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  Alvarado  pre- 
sented the  sponsors.  He  lifted  his  cap  and  bowed,  but 
not  so  low  as  the  caballeros  who  were  wont  to  prostrate 
themselves  before  her.  They  murmured  the  usual  form 
of  salutation : 

"At  your  feet,  senorita." 

"I  appreciate  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance." 

"It  is  my  duty  and  pleasure  to  lift  you  to  your  horse." 
And,  still  holding  his  cap  in  his  hand,  he  led  her  to  one 
of  the  three  horses  which  stood  beside  the  carriage; 
with  little  assistance  she  sprang  to  its  back,  and  he 
mounted  the  one  reserved  for  him. 

The  cavalcade  started.    First  the  carriage,  then  Al- 


212    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

varado  and  myself,  followed  by  the  sponsors,  the  Cas- 
tros,  the  members  of  the  Departmental  Junta  and  their 
wives,  then  the  caballeros  and  the  donas,  the  old  people 
and  the  Americans;  the  populace  trudging  gaily  in  the 
rear,  keeping  good  pace  with  the  riders,  who  were  held 
in  check  by  a  fragment  of  pulp  too  young  to  be  jolted. 

"You  never  have  been  in  Monterey  before,  senorita, 
I  understand,"  said  Estenega  to  Chonita.  No  situation 
could  embarrass  him. 

* '  No ;  once  they  thought  to  send  me  to  the  convent  here 
— to  Dona  Concha  Argiiello — but  it  was  so  far,  and 
my  mother  does  not  like  to  travel.  So  Dona  Concha 
came  to  us  for  a  year,  and,  after,  I  studied  with  an  in- 
structor who  came  from  Mexico  to  educate  my  brother 
and  me."  She  had  no  intention  of  being  communica- 
tive with  Diego  Estenega,  but  his  keen  reflective  gaze 
confused  her,  and  she  took  refuge  in  words. 

"Dona  Eustaquia  tells  me  that,  unlike  most  of  our 
women,  you  have  read  many  books.  Few  Californian 
women  care  for  anything  but  to  look  beautiful  and  to 
marry — not,  however,  being  unique  in  that  respect. 
Would  you  not  rather  live  in  our  capital?  You  are  so 
far  away,  down  there,  and  there  are  but  few  of  the 
gent e  de  razon,  no  ? ' ' 

"We  are  well  satisfied,  senor,  and  we  are  gay  when 
we  wish.  There  are  ten  families  in  the  town,  and  many 
rancheros  within  a  hundred  leagues.  They  think  noth- 
ing of  coming  to  our  balls.  And  we  have  ground  relig- 
ious processions,  and  bull-fights,  and  races.  We  have 
beautiful  canons  for  meriendas ;  and  I  could  dance  every 
night  if  I  wished.  We  are  few,  but  we  are  quite  as  gay 
and  quite  as  happy  as  you  in  your  capital. ' '  The  pride 
of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas  and  of  the  Barbarina  flashed 
in  her  eyes,  then  made  way  for  anger  under  the  amused 
glance  of  Estenega. 

' '  Oh,  of  course ! "  he  said  teasingly.  ' '  But  then  you  are 
to  Monterey  what  Monterey  is  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  Par- 
don me,  senorita ;  I  would  not  anger  you  for  all  the  gold 
which  is  said  to  lie  like  rocks  under  our  Californias,  if 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  213 

it  be  true  that  certain  padres  hold  that  mighty  secret. 
(God!  how  I  should  like  to  get  one  by  the  throat  and 
throttle  it  out  of  him!)  Pardon  me  again,  senorita; 
I  was  going  to  say  that  you  may  be  pleased  to  know 
there  is  little  magnificence  where  my  ranches  are — 
high  on  the  coast,  among  the  redwoods.  I  live  in  a 
house  made  of  big  ugly  logs,  unpainted.  There  are  no 
cavalcades  in  the  cold  depths  of  those  redwood  forests, 
and  the  ocean  beats  against  ragged  cliffs.  Only  at  Fort 
Boss,  in  her  log  palace,  does  the  beautiful  Russian 
Princess  Helene  Rotschev  strive  occasionally  to  make 
herself  and  others  forget  that  the  forest  is  not  the  Bois 
of  her  beloved  Paris,  that  in  it  the  grizzly  and  the  pan- 
ther hunger  for  her,  and  that  an  Indian  chieftain,  mad 
with  love  for  the  only  fair-haired  woman  he  has  ever 
seen,  is  determined  to  carry  her  off " 

* '  Tell  me !  tell  me ! ' '  cried  Chonita  eagerly,  forgetting 
her  role  and  her  enemy.  "What  is  that?  I  do  not 
know  the  princess,  although  she  has  sent  me  word  many 
times  to  visit  her.  Did  an  Indian  try  to  carry  her  off  ? " 

"It  happened  only  the  other  day.  Prince  Solano, 
perhaps  you  have  heard,  is  chief  of  all  the  tribes  of 
Sonoma,  Valley  of  the  Moon.  He  is  a  handsome  animal, 
with  a  strong  will  and  remarkable  organizing  abilities. 
One  day  I  was  entertaining  the  Rotschevs  at  dinner 
when  Solano  suddenly  flung  the  door  open  and  strode 
into  the  room;  we  are  old  friends,  and  my  servants  do 
not  stand  on  ceremony  with  him.  As  he  caught  sight  of 
the  princess  he  halted  abruptly,  stared  at  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, much  as  the  first  man  may  have  stared  at  the  first 
woman,  then  turned  and  left  the  house,  sprang  on  his 
mustang,  and  galloped  away.  The  princess,  you  must 
know,  is  as  blonde  as  only  a  Russian  can  be,  and  an 
extremely  pretty  woman,  small  and  dainty.  No  wonder 
the  mighty  prince  of  darkness  took  fire.  She  was  much 
amused.  So  was  Rotschev,  and  he  joked  her  the  rest  of 
the  evening.  Before  he  left,  however,  I  had  a  word 
with  him  alone,  and  warned  him  not  to  let  the  princess 
stray  beyond  the  walls  of  the  fortress.  That  same  night 


214    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

I  sent  a  courier  to  General  Vallejo — who,  fortunately, 
was  at  Sonoma — bidding  him  watch  Solano.  And,  sure 
enough — the  day  I  left  for  Monterey  the  Princess  Helene 
was  in  hysterics,  Kotschev  was  swearing  like  a  mad- 
man, and  a  soldier  was  at  every  carronade;  word  had 
just  come  from  General  Vallejo  that  he  had  that  morn- 
ing intercepted  Solano  in  his  triumphant  march,  at  the 
head  of  six  tribes,  upon  Fort  Ross,  and  sent  him  flying 
back  to  his  mountain-top  in  disorder  and  bitterness  of 
spirit. ' ' 

4 'That  is  very  interesting !' '  cried  Chonita.  "I  like 
that.  What  an  experience  those  Russians  have  had! 
That  terrible  tragedy — Ah,  I  remember,  it  was  you  who 
were  to  have  aided  Natalie  Ivanhov1  in  her  escape " 

"Ah!"  said  Estenega.  "Do  not  speak  of  that.  Here 
we  are.  At  your  service,  senorita."  He  sprang  to  the 
whaleboned  pavement  in  front  of  the  little  church  facing 
the  blue  bay  and  surrounded  by  the  gray  ruins  of  the 
old  Presidio,  and  lifted  her  down. 

Chonita,  recalled,  and  angry  with  herself  for  having 
been  beguiled  by  her  enemy,  took  the  infant  from  the 
nurse's  arms  and  carried  it  fearfully  up  the  aisle.  Es- 
tenega, walking  beside  her,  regarded  her  meditatively. 

' '  What  is  she  ?  "  he  thought,  ' '  this  Calif ornian  woman 
with  her  hair  of  gold  and  her  unmistakable  intellect,  her 
marble  face  crossed  now  and  again  by  the  animation  of 
the  clever  American  woman?  What  an  anomaly  to  find 
on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific!  All  I  had  heard  of  The 
Doomswoman,  The  Golden  Senorita,  gave  me  no  idea  of 
this.  What  a  pity  that  our  houses  are  at  war !  She  is 
not  maternal,  at  all  events;  I  never  saw  a  baby  held  so 
awkwardly.  What  a  poise  of  head!  She  looks  better 
fitted  for  tragedy  than  for  this  little  comedy  of  life  in 
the  Californias.  A  sovereignty  would  suit  her,  were  it 
not  for  her  eyes.  They  are  not  quite  so  calm  and  just 
and  inexorable  as  the  rest  of  her  face.  She  would  not 
even  make  a  good  household  tyrant,  like  Dona  Jacoba 

1  People  merely  referred  to  in  this  book  are  characters  in  ' '  The 
Splendid  Idle  Forties." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  215 

Duncan.  Unquestionably  she  is  religious,  and  swaddled 
in  all  the  traditions  of  her  race ;  but  her  eyes — they  are 
at  odds  with  all  the  rest  of  her.  They  are  not  lovely 
eyes;  they  lack  softness  and  languor  and  tractability ; 
their  expression  changes  too  often,  and  they  mirror  too 
much  intelligence  for  loveliness,  but  they  never  will  be 
old  eyes,  and  they  never  will  cease  to  look.  And  they 
are  the  eyes  best  worth  looking  into  that  I  have  ever 
seen.  No,  a  sovereignty  would  not  suit  her  at  all;  a 
salon  might.  But,  like  a  few  of  us,  she  is  some  years 
ahead  of  her  sphere.  Glory  be  to  the  Californias— of  the 
future,  when  we  are  dust  and  our  children  have  found 
the  gold!" 

The  baby  was  nearly  baptized  by  the  time  he  had  fin- 
ished his  soliloquy.  She  had  kicked  alarmingly  when 
the  salt  was  laid  on  her  tongue,  and  squalled  under 
the  deluge  of  water  which  gave  her  her  name  and  also 
wet  Chonita's  sleeve.  The  godmother  longed  for  the 
ceremony  to  be  over;  but  it  was  more  protracted  than 
usual,  owing  to  the  importance  of  the  restless  object  on 
the  pillow  in  her  weary  arms.  When  the  last  word  was 
said,  she  handed  pillow  and  baby  to  the  nurse  with  a 
fervent  sigh  of  relief,  which  made  her  appear  girlish 
and  natural. 

After  Estenega  had  lifted  her  to  her  horse,  he  dried 
her  sleeve  with  his  handkerchief.  He  lingered  over  the 
task ;  the  cavalcade  and  populace  went  on  without  them, 
and  when  they  started  they  were  in  the  rearward  of  the 
chattering  crowd. 

* '  Do  you  know  what  I  thought  as  I  stood  beside  you  in 
the  church?"  he  asked. 

* '  No, ' '  she  said  indifferently.  ' 1 1  hope  you  prayed  for 
the  fortune  of  the  little  one. ' ' 

"I  did  not;  nor  did  you.  You  were  too  afraid  you 
would  drop  it.  I  was  thinking  how  unmotherly,  I  had 
almost  said  unwomanly,  you  looked.  You  were  made 
for  the  great  world — the  restless  world,  where  people  fly 
faster  from  monotony  than  from  a  tidal  wave. ' ' 

She  looked  at  him  with  cold  dignity,  but  flushed  a 


216    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

little.  "I  am  not  unwomanly,  serior,  although  I  con- 
fess I  do  not  understand  babies,  and  do  detest  to  sew. 
But  if  I  ever  marry  I  shall  be  a  good  wife  and  mother. 
No  Spanish  woman  was  ever  otherwise,  for  every  Span- 
ish woman  has  had  a  good  mother  for  example. " 

"You  have  said  exactly  what  you  should  have  said, 
prompted  by  the  inborn  principles  and  sentiments  of 
the  Spanish  woman.  I  should  be  interested  to  know 
what  your  individual  sentiments  are.  But  you  misun- 
derstand me.  I  said  that  you  were  too  good  for  the 
average  lot  of  woman.  You  are  a  woman,  not  a  doll; 
an  intelligence,  not  a  bundle  of  shallow  emotions  and 
transient  desires.  You  should  have  a  larger  destiny. ' ' 

She  gave  him  a  swift  sidelong  flash  from  eyes  that 
suddenly  looked  childish  and  eager. 

"It  is  true,"  she  said  frankly,  "I  have  no  desire  to 
marry  and  have  many  children.  My  father  has  never 
said  to  me,  "Thou  must  marry;'  and  I  have  sometimes 
thought  I  should  say  'No'  when  that  time  came.  For  the 
present  I  am  contented  with  my  books  and  to  ride  about 
the  country  on  a  wild  horse;  but  perhaps — I  do  not 
know — I  may  not  always  be  contented  with  that.  Some- 
times when  reading  Shakespeare  I  have  imagined  my- 
self each  of  those  women  in  turn.  But  generally,  of 
course,  I  have  thought  little  of  being  any  one  but  my- 
self. What  else  could  I  be  here?" 

* '  Nothing ;  excepting  a  Jeanne  d  'Arc  when  the  Amer- 
icans sweep  down  upon  us.  But  that  would  be  only 
for  a  day ;  we  should  be  such  easy  prey.  If  I  could  put 
you  to  sleep  and  awaken  you  fifty  years  hence,  when 
California  is  a  modern  civilization!  God  speed  the 
Americans!  Therein  lies  our  only  chance." 

"What!"  she  cried.  "You — you  would  have  the 
Americans  ?  You — a  Calif ornian !  But  you  are  an  Es- 
tenega;  that  explains  everything." 

"I  am  a  Calif  ornian, "  he  said,  "but  I  hope  I  have 
acquired  some  common  sense  in  roving  about  the  world. 
The  women  of  California  are  admirable  in  every  way — 
chaste,  strong  of  character,  industrious,  devoted  wives 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  217 

and  mothers,  born  with  sufficient  capacity  for  small 
pleasures.  But  what  are  our  men?  Idle,  thriftless,  un- 
ambitious, too  lazy  to  walk  across  the  street,  but  with  a 
horse  for  every  step,  sleeping  all  day  in  a  hammock, 
gambling  and  drinking  all  night.  They  are  the  natural 
followers  of  a  race  of  men  who  came  here  to  force  for- 
tune out  of  an  unbroken  country  with  little  to  help 
them  but  brains  and  will.  The  great  effort  produced 
great  results ;  therefore  there  is  nothing  for  their  sons  to 
do,  and  they  luxuriously  do  nothing.  "What  will  the  next 
generation  be?  Our  women  will  marry  Americans — 
respect  for  men  who  are  men  will  overcome  prejudice — 
the  crossed  blood  will  fight  for  a  generation  or  two,  then 
a  race  will  be  born  worthy  of  California.  Why  are  our 
few  great  men  so  very  great  to  us  ?  What  have  men  of 
exceptional  talent  to  fight  down  in  the  Californias  ex- 
cept the  barriers  to  its  development?  In  England  or 
the  United  States  they  still  would  be  great  men — Alva- 
rado  and  Castro,  at  least — but  they  would  have  to  work 
harder." 

Chonita,  in  spite  of  her  disapproval  and  her  blood, 
looked  at  him  with  interest.  His  ideas  and  language 
were  strikingly  unlike  the  sentimental  rhetoric  of  the 
caballeros. 

"It  is  as  you  say,"  she  admitted;  "but  the  Calif  or- 
nian's  highest  duty  is  loyalty  to  his  country.  Ours  is  a 
double  duty,  isolated  as  we  are  on  this  far  strip  of  land, 
away  from  all  other  civilization.  We  should  be  more 
contemptible  than  Indians  if  we  were  not  true  to  our 
flag." 

"No  wonder  that  you  and  that  famous  patriot  of 
ours,  Dona  Eustaquia  Ortega,  are  bonded  friends.  I 
doubt  if  you  could  hate  as  well  as  she.  You  have  no 
such  violence  in  your  nature;  you  could  neither  love 
nor  hate  very  hard.  You  would  love  (if  you  loved  at 
all)  with  majesty  and  serenity,  and  hate  with  chill  sever- 
ity. ' '  While  he  spoke  he  watched  her  intently. 

She  met  his  gaze  unflinchingly.  ' '  True,  senor ;  I  am  no 
*  bundle  of  shallow  emotions, '  nor  have  I  lion  in  me,  like 


218    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Eustaquia.  I  am  a  creature  of  deliberation,  not  of  im- 
pulse :  I  love  and  hate  as  duty  dictates. ' ' 

"You  are  by  nature  the  most  impulsive  woman  I  ever 
saw,"  he  said,  much  amused,  "and  Eustaquia 's  lion  is 
a  kitten  to  the  one  that  sleeps  in  you.  You  have  cold 
deliberation  enough,  but  it  is  manufactured,  and  the 
result  of  pretty  hard  work  at  that.  Like  all  edifices 
reared  without  a  foundation,  it  will  fall  with  a  crash 
some  day,  and  the  fragments  will  be  of  very  little  use 
to  you."  And  there  the  conversation  ended;  they  had 
reached  the  plaza,  and  a  babel  of  voices  surrounded 
them.  Governor  Alvarado  stood  on  the  upper  corri- 
dor (verandah)  of  his  house,  throwing  handfuls  of  small 
gold  coins  among  the  people,  who  were  shrieking  with 
delight.  The  girl  guests  mingled  with  them,  seeing  that 
no  palm  went  home  empty.  Beside  the  Governor  sat 
Dona  Martina,  radiant  with  pride,  and  behind  her  stood 
the  nurse,  holding  the  infant  on  its  pillow. 

"We  had  better  go  to  the  house  as  soon  as  possible," 
said  Estenega.  "It  is  nearly  time  for  the  bull-bear 
fight,  and  we  must  have  good  seats. ' ' 

They  forced  their  way  through  the  crowd,  dismounted 
at  the  door,  and  went  up  to  the  corridor.  The  Castros 
and  I  were  already  there,  with  a  number  of  other  in- 
vited guests.  The  women  sat  in  chairs,  close  to  the  cor- 
ridor railing;  several  rows  of  men  stood  behind  them. 

The  plaza  was  a  jagged  circle  surrounded  by  dwelling- 
houses,  some  one  story  in  height,  others  with  overhang- 
ing balconies;  from  it  radiated  five  streets.  All  corri- 
dors were  crowded  with  splendidly  dressed  men  and 
women  of  the  aristocracy ;  large  black  fans  were  waving ; 
every  eye  was  flashing  expectantly;  the  people  stood  on 
platforms  which  had  been  erected  in  four  of  the  streets. 

Amid  the  shouts  of  the  spectators,  two  vaqueros, 
dressed  in  black  velvet  short-clothes,  dazzling  linen,  and 
stiff  black  sombreros,  tinkling  bells  attached  to  their 
trappings,  jingling  spurs  on  their  heels,  galloped 
into  the  plaza,  driving  a  large  aggressive  bull. 
They  chased  him  about  in  a  circle,  swinging  their  reatas, 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  219 

dodging  his  onslaughts,  then  rode  out,  and  four  others 
entered,  dragging  an  unwilling  bear  by  a  reata  tied  to 
each  of  its  legs.  By  means  of  a  long  chain  and  much 
dexterity  they  fastened  the  two  beasts  together,  freed 
the  legs  of  the  bear,  then  retired  to  the  entrance  to 
await  events.  But  the  bull  and  the  bear  would  not  fight. 
The  latter  arose  on  his  haunches  and  regarded  his  en- 
emy warily.  The  bull  appeared  to  disdain  the  bear  as 
too  small  game ;  he  but  lowered  his  horns  and  pawed  the 
ground.  The  spectators  grew  impatient.  The  brave 
caballeros  and  dainty  donas  wanted  blood.  They  tapped 
their  feet  and  murmured  ominously.  As  for  the  popu- 
lace, it  howled  for  slaughter.  Governor  Alvarado  made 
a  sign  to  one  of  the  vaqueros ;  the  man  rushed  abruptly 
upon  the  bull  and  hit  him  a  sharp  blow  across  the  nose 
with  the  cruel  quirto.  The  bull's  dignity  vanished. 
With  the  quadrupedian  capacity  for  measuring  distance, 
he  inferred  that  the  blow  had  been  inflicted  by  the  bear, 
who  sat  some  twenty  feet  away,  mildly  licking  his  paws. 
He  made  a  savage  onset.  The  bear,  with  the  dexterity 
of  a  vaquero,  leaped  aside  and  sprang  upon  the  assail- 
ant's neck,  his  teeth  meeting  argumentatively  in  the 
rope-like  tendons.  The  bull  roared  with  pain  and  rage, 
and  attempted  to  shake  him  off;  but  he  hung  on;  both 
lost  their  footing  and  rolled  over  and  over  amid  clouds 
of  dust,  a  mighty  noise,  and  enough  blood  to  satisfy  the 
early  thirst  of  the  beholders.  Then  the  bull  wrenched 
himself  free ;  before  the  mountain  visitor  could  scramble 
to  his  feet,  he  fixed  him  with  his  horns  and  tossed  him 
on  high.  As  the  bear  came  down  on  his  back  with  a 
thud  and  a  snap,  which  would  have  satisfied  a  bull  less 
anxious  to  show  what  a  bull  could  do,  the  victor  rushed 
upon  the  corpse,  kicked  and  stamped  and  bit  until  the 
blood  spouted  into  his  eyes,  and  pulp  and  dust  were 
indistinguishable.  Then  how  the  delighted  spectators 
clapped  their  hands  and  cried  "Brava!"  to  the  bull, 
who  pranced  about  the  plaza,  dragging  the  carcass  of  the 
bear  after  him,  his  head  high,  his  big  eyes  red  and 
rolling!  The  women  tore  off  their  rebosos  and  waved 


220    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

them  like  banners,  smashed  their  fans,  and  stamped  their 
little  feet ;  the  men  whirled  their  sombreros  with  supple 
wrists.  But  the  bull  was  not  satisfied;  he  pawed  the 
ground  with  demanding  hoofs,  and  the  vaqueros  gal- 
loped into  the  ring  with  another  bear.  Nor  had  they 
time  to  detach  their  reatas  before  the  bull  was  upon 
the  second  antagonist,  and  they  were  obliged  to  retire 
in  haste. 

Estenega,  who  stood  between  Chonita  and  myself, 
watched  The  Doomswoman  attentively.  Her  lips  were 
compressed  fiercely;  for  a  moment  they  bore  a  strange 
resemblance  to  his  own  as  I  had  seen  them  at  times.  Her 
nostrils  were  expanded,  her  lids  half  covered  her  eyes. 
"She  has  cruelty  in  her,"  he  murmured  to  me  as  the 
first  battle  finished;  "and  it  was  her  imperious  wish 
that  the  bull  should  win,  because  he  is  the  more  lordly 
animal.  She  has  no  sympathy  for  the  poor  bundle  of 
hair  and  quivering  flesh  that  bounded  on  the  mountain 
yesterday.  Has  she  brutality  in  her  ? — just  enough " 

"Brava!  Brava!"  The  women  were  on  their  feet; 
even  Chonita  for  the  moment  forgot  herself,  and  beat 
the  railing  with  her  small  fist.  Another  bear  had  been 
impaled  and  tossed  and  trampled.  The  bull,  panting 
from  his  exertions,  dashed  about  the  plaza,  still  drag- 
ging his  first  victim  after  him.  Suddenly  he  stopped; 
the  blood  gushed  from  his  nostrils;  he  shivered  like  a 
skeleton  hanging  in  the  wind,  then  fell  in  an  ignominious 
heap — dead. 

"A  warning,  Diego, "  I  said,  rising  and  shaking  my 
fan  at  him.  "Be  not  too  ambitious,  else  wilt  thou  die 
of  thy  victories.  And  do  not  love  the  polar  star,"  I 
murmured  in  his  ear,  "lest  thou  set  fire  to  it  and  fall  to 
ashes  thyself." 


CHAPTER   III 

IN  the  long  dining-room,  opening  upon  the  large  high- 
walled  garden  at  the  back  of  the  Governor's  house,  a 
feast  was  spread  for  fifty  people.  Dona  Martina  sat  for 
a  little  time  at  the  head  of  the  table,  her  yellow  gown 
almost  hidden  by  the  masses  of  hair  which  her  small 
head  could  not  support.  Castro  was  on  one  side  of  her, 
Estenega  on  the  other,  Chonita  by  her  arch-enemy.  A 
large  bunch  of  artificial  flowers  was  at  each  plate,  and 
the  table  was  loaded  with  yellowed  chickens  sitting 
proudly  in  scarlet  gravy,  tongues  covered  with  walnut 
sauce,  grilled  meats,  tamales,  mounds  of  tortillas,  and 
dulces. 

Alvarado,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  sat  between 
Dona  Modeste  Castro  and  myself;  and  between  the  ex- 
tremes of  the  board  were  faces  glowing,  beautiful,  ugly, 
but  without  exception  fresh  and  young.  From  all,  the 
mantilla  and  serape  had  been  removed,  jewels  sparkle'd 
in  the  lace  shirts  of  the  men,  white  throats  were  encir- 
cled by  the  invariable  necklace  of  Baja  Calif ornian 
pearls.  Chonita  alone  wore  a  string  of  black  pearls.  I 
never  saw  her  without  it. 

Dona  Martina  took  little  part  in  the  talk  and  laughter, 
and  after  a  time  slipped  away,  motioning  to  Chonita  to 
take  her  place.  The  conversation  turned  upon  war  and 
politics,  and  in  its  course  Estenega,  looking  from  Cho- 
nita to  Castro  with  a  smile  of  good-natured  irony,  said : 

"Dona  Chonita  is  of  your  opinion,  coronel,  that  Cali- 
fornia was  the  direct  gift  of  Heaven  to  the  Spaniards, 
and  that  the  Americans  cannot  have  us. ' ' 

Castro  raised  his  glass  to  the  comadre.  "Dona  Cho- 
nita has  the  loyal  bosom  of  all  Californian  women.  Our 
men  love  better  the  olive  of  peace  than  the  flavor  of 

221 


222    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

discord;  but  did  the  bandoleros  dare  to  approach  our 
peaceful  shores  with  dastardly  intent  to  rob,  then,  thanks 
be  to  God,  I  know  that  every  man  among  them  would 
fight  for  this  virgin  land.  You,  too,  Diego,  you  would 
unsheathe  your  sword,  in  spite  of  your  pretended  ad- 
miration of  the  Americans." 

Estenega  raised  his  shoulders.  "Possibly.  But  in 
American  occupation  lies  the  hope  of  California.  What 
have  we  done  with  it  in  our  seventy  years  of  possession  f 
Built  a  few  missions,  which  are  rotting,  terrorized  or 
cajoled  a  few  thousand  worthless  Indians  into  civilized 
imbecility,  and  raised  a  respectable  number  of  horses 
and  cattle.  Our  hide  and  tallow  trade  is  only  good ;  the 
Russians  have  monopolized  the  fur  trade;  we  continue 
to  raise  cattle  and  horses  because  it  would  be  an  exer- 
tion to  suppress  them ;  and  meanwhile  we  dawdle  away 
our  lives  very  pleasurably,  while  a  magnificent  terri- 
tory, filled  with  gold  and  richer  still  in  soil,  lies  idle 
beneath  our  feet.  Nature  never  works  without  a  plan. 
She  compounded  a  wonderful  country,  and  she  created 
a  wonderful  people  to  develop  it.  She  has  allowed  us 
to  drone  on  it  for  a  little  time,  but  it  was  not  made  for 
us ;  and  I  am  sufficiently  interested  in  California  to  wish 
to  see  her  rise  from  her  sleep  and  feel  and  live  in  every 
part  of  her."  He  turned  suddenly  to  Chonita.  "If  I 
were  a  sculptor, ' '  he  said,  ' '  I  should  use  you  as  a  model 
for  a  statue  of  California.  I  have  the  somewhat  whimsi- 
cal idea  that  you  are  the  human  embodiment  of  her. ' ' 

Before  she  could  muster  her  startled  and  angry  facul- 
ties for  reply,  before  Estenega  had  finished  speaking, 
Castro  brought  his  open  palm  down  on  the  table,  his 
eyes  blazing. 

"Oh,  execrable  profanation!"  he  cried.  "Oh,  un- 
heard-of perfidy !  Is  it  possible  that  a  man  calling  him- 
self a  Californian  could  give  utterance  to  such  senti- 
ments? Oh,  abomination!  You  would  invite,  welcome, 
uphold  the  American  adventurer  ?  You  would  tear  apart 
the  bosom  of  your  country  under  pretence  of  doctoring 
its  evils  ?  You  would  cast  this  fair  gift  of  Almighty  God 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  223 

at  the  feet  of  American  swine?  Oh,  Diego!  Diego! 
This  comes  of  the  heretic  books  you  have  read.  It  is 
better  to  have  heart  than  brain." 

' l  True ;  the  palpitations  do  not  last  as  long.  We  have 
had  proof  which  I  need  not  recapitulate  that  to  preserve 
California  to  herself  she  must  be  tied  fast  to  Mexico, 
otherwise  would  she  die  of  anarchy  or  fall  a  prey  to 
the  first  invader.  So  far  so  good.  But  what  has  Mex- 
ico done  for  California  ?  Nothing ;  and  she  will  do  less. 
She  is  a  mother  who  has  forgotten  the  child  she  put  out 
to  nurse.  England  and  France  and  Russia  would  do  as 
little.  But  the  United  States,  young  and  ambitious,  will 
give  her  greedy  attention,  and  out  of  their  greed  will 
California 's  good  be  wrought.  And  although  they  sweep 
us  from  the  earth,  they  will  plant  fruit  where  they  found 
weeds. ' ' 

Don  Jose  pushed  back  his  chair  violently  and  left  the 
table.  Estenega  turned  to  Chonita  and  found  her  pallid, 
her  nostrils  tense,  her  eyes  flashing. 

"Traitor!"  she  articulated.  "I  hate  you!  And  it 
was  you — you — who  kept  my  loyal  brother  from  serving 
his  country  in  the  Departmental  Junta.  He  is  as  full 
of  fire  and  patriotism  as  Castro;  and  yet  you,  whose 
blood  is  ice,  could  be  a  member  of  the  Electoral  College 
and  defeat  the  election  of  a  man  who  is  as  much  an  honor 
to  his  country  as  you  are  a  shame." 

He  smiled  a  little  cruelly,  but  without  anger  or  shame 
in  his  face.  "Senorita,"  he  said,  "I  defeated  your 
brother  because  I  did  not  believe  him  to  be  of  any  use 
to  his  country.  He  would  only  have  been  in  the  way  as 
a  member  of  the  Junta,  and  an  older  and  wiser  man 
wanted  the  place.  Your  brother  has  Don  Jose 's  enthusi- 
asm without  his  magnetism  and  remarkable  executive 
power.  He  is  too  young  to  have  had  experience,  and  has 
done  neither  reading  nor  thinking.  Therefore,  I  did  my 
best  to  defeat  him.  Pardon  my  rudeness,  senorita; 
ascribe  it  to  revenge  for  calling  me  a  traitor." 

"You — you "  she  stammered,  then  bent  her  head 

over  her  plate,  her  Spanish  dignity  aghast  at  the  threat- 


224    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

ening  tears.  Her  hand  hung  clinched  at  her  side.  Diego 
took  it  in  spite  of  resistance,  and,  opening  the  rigid 
fingers,  bent  his  head  beneath  the  board  and  kissed 
them. 

"I  believe  you  are  somewhat  of  a  woman,  after  all," 
he  said. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  party  deserted  the  table  for  the  garden,  there  to 
idle  until  evening  should  give  them  the  dance.  All  of 
the  men,  and  most  of  the  women,  smoked  cigaritos,  the 
women  using  the  gold  or  silver  holder,  supporting  it  be- 
tween the  thumb  and  finger.  The  high  walls  of  the  gar- 
den were  covered  with  the  delicate  fragrant  pink  Cas- 
tilian  roses,  and  the  girls  plucked  them  and  laid  them 
in  their  hair. 

i  l  Does  it  look  well,  Don  Diego  ? ' '  asked  one  girl,  hold- 
ing her  head  coquettishly  on  one  side. 

"It  looked  better  on  its  vine,"  he  said  absently.  He 
was  looking  for  Chonita,  who  had  disappeared.  "Roses 
are  like  women:  they  lose  their  subtler  fragrance  when 
plucked;  but,  like  women,  their  heads  always  droop  in- 
vitingly." 

' '  I  do  not  understand  you,  Don  Diego, ' '  said  the  girl, 
fixing  her  wide  innocent  eyes  on  the  young  man's  in- 
scrutable face.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"That  thou  art  sweeter  than  Castilian  roses,"  he 
said,  and  passed  on.  "And  how  is  your  little  one?"  he 
asked  a  young  matron  whose  lithe  beauty  had  won  his 
admiration  a  year  ago,  but  to  whom  maternity  had  been 
too  generous.  She  raised  her  soft  brown  eyes,  out  of 
which  the  coquettish  sparkle  had  gone. 

1 '  Beautiful !  Beautiful ! ' '  she  cried.  ' '  And  so  clever, 
Don  Diego.  He  beats  the  air  with  his  little  fists,  and — 
Holy  Mary,  I  swear  it ! — he  winks  one  eye  when  I  tickle 
him." 

Estenega  sauntered  down  the  garden,  endeavoring  to 
imagine  Chonita  fat  and  classified.  He  could  not.  He 
paused  beside  a  woman  who  did  not  raise  her  eyes  at 
once,  but  coquettishly  pretended  to  be  absorbed  in  the 

225 


226    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

conversation  of  those  about  her.  She,  too,  had  been  mar- 
ried a  year  and  more,  but  her  figure  had  not  lost  its 
elegance,  and  she  was  very  handsome.  Her  coquetry 
was  partly  fear.  Estenega 's  power  was  felt  alike  by 
innocent  girls  and  chaste  matrons.  There  were  few  scan- 
dals in  those  days;  the  women  of  the  aristocracy  were 
virtuous  by  instinct  and  rigid  social  laws;  but,  how  it 
would  be  hard  to  tell,  Estenega  had  acquired  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  dangerous  man.  Perhaps  it  had  fol- 
lowed him  back  from  the  city  of  Mexico,  where,  at  one 
time,  he  had  spent  three  years  as  diputado,  and  whence 
returned  with  a  brilliant  and  startling  record  of  gal- 
lantry. A  woman  had  followed  on  the  next  ship,  and, 
unless  I  am  much  mistaken,  Diego  passed  many  uneasy 
hours  before  he  persuaded  her  to  return  to  Mexico.  Then 
old  Don  Jose  Briones'  beautiful  young  wife  was  found 
dead  in  her  bed  one  morning,  and  the  old  women  who 
dressed  the  body  swore  that  there  were  marks  of  hard 
skinny  fingers  on  her  throat.  Estenega  had  made  no 
secret  of  his  admiration  of  her.  At  different  times  girls 
of  the  people  had  left  Monterey  suddenly,  and  vague 
rumors  had  floated  down  from  the  North  that  they  had 
been  seen  in  the  redwood  forests  where  Estenega 's 
ranches  lay.  I  asked  him,  point-blank,  one  day,  if 
these  stories  were  true,  prepared  to  scold  him  as  he  de- 
served ;  and  he  remarked  coolly  that  stories  of  that  sort 
were  always  exaggerated,  as  well  as  a  man's  success 
with  women.  But  one  had  only  to  look  at  that  face, 
with  its  expression  of  bitter-humorous  knowledge,  its 
combination  of  strength  and  weakness,  to  feel  sure  that 
there  were  chapters  in  his  life  that  no  woman  outside  of 
them  would  ever  read.  I  always  felt,  when  with  Diego 
Estenega,  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of  a  man  who  had 
little  left  to  learn  of  life's  manifold  phases  and  sensa- 
tions. 

"The  sun  will  freckle  your  white  neck,"  he  said  to 
the  matron  who  would  not  raise  her  eyes.  "Shall  I 
bring  your  mantilla,  Doiia  Carmen  ? ' ' 

She  looked  up  with  a  swift  blush,  then  lowered  her 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  227 

soft  black  eyes  suddenly  before  the  penetrating  gaze  of 
the  man  who  was  so  different  from  the  caballeros. 

"It  is  not  well  to  be  too  vain,  senor.  We  must  think 
less  of  those  things  and  more  of — of  our  Church. ' ' 

"True;  the  Church  may  be  a  surer  road  to  heaven 
than  a  good  complexion,  if  less  of  a  talisman  on  earth. 
Still  I  doubt  if  a  freckled  virgin  would  have  commanded 
the  admiration  of  the  centuries,  or  even  of  the  Holy 
Ghost. " 

"Don  Diego!  Don  Diego!"  cried  a  dozen  horrified 
voices. 

"Diego  Estenega,  if  it  were  any  man  but  you,"  I  ex- 
claimed, "I  should  have  you  excommunicated.  You 
blasphemer!  How  could  you?" 

Diego  raised  my  threatening  hand  to  his  lips.  "My 
dear  Eustaquia,  it  was  merely  a  way  of  saying  that 
woman  should  be  without  blemish.  And  is  not  the 
Virgin  the  model  for  all  women  ? ' ' 

"Oh,"  I  exclaimed  impatiently,  "you  can  plant  an 
idea  in  people's  minds,  then  pluck  it  out  before  their 
very  eyes,  and  make  them  believe  it  never  was  there. 
That  is  your  power — but  not  over  me.  I  know  you." 
We  were  standing  apart,  and  I  had  dropped  my  voice. 
"But  come  and  talk  to  me  a  while.  I  cannot  stand  those 
babies,"  and  I  indicated  with  a  sweep  of  my  fan  the 
graceful  richly  dressed  caballeros,  whose  soft  drooping 
eyes  and  sensuous  mouths  were  more  promising  of  com- 
pliments than  conversation.  "Neither  Alvarado  nor 
Castro  is  here.  You,  too,  would  have  gone  in  a  moment 
had  I  not  captured  you." 

* '  On  the  contrary,  I  should  have  captured  you.  If  we 
were  not  too  old  friends  for  flirting,  I  should  say  that 
your  handsome-ugly  face  is  the  most  attractive  in  the 
garden.  It  is  a  pretty  picture,  though,"  he  went  on 
meditatively — "those  women  in  their  gay  soft  gowns, 
coquetting  demurely  with  the  caballeros.  Their  eyes  and 
mouths  are  like  flowers;  and  their  skin  is  so  white,  and 
their  hair  so  black !  The  high  wall,  covered  with  green 
leaves  and  Castilian  roses,  was  purposely  designed  by 


228    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Nature  for  their  background.  Sometimes  I  have  a  pass- 
ing regret  that  it  is  all  doomed,  and,  half  a  century 
hence,  will  have  passed  out  of  memory." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ? "  I  asked  sharply. 

"Oh,  we  will  not  discuss  the  question  of  the  future. 
I  sent  Castro  away  from  the  table  in  a  towering  rage, 
and  it  is  too  hot  to  excite  you.  Even  the  impassive 
Doomswoman  became  so  angry  that  she  could  not  eat 
her  dinner." 

"It  is  your  old  wish  for  American  occupation — the 
bandoleros !  No ;  I  will  not  discuss  it  with  you.  I  have 
gone  to  bed  with  my  head  bursting  when  we  have  talked 
of  it  before.  You  might  have  spared  poor  Jose.  But 
let  us  talk  of  something  else — Chonita.  What  do  you 
think  of  her?" 

"A  thousand  things  more  than  one  usually  thinks  of 
a  woman  after  the  first  interview." 

"But  do  you  think  her  beautiful?" 

"She  is  better  than  beautiful.    She  is  original." 

"I  often  wonder  if  she  would  be  La  Favorita  of  the 
South  if  it  were  not  for  her  father's  great  wealth  and 
position.  The  men  who  profess  to  be  her  slaves  must 
have  absorbed  the  knowledge  that  she  has  the  brains 
they  have  not,  although  she  conceals  her  superiority  from 
them  admirably.  Her  pride  and  love  of  power  demand 
that  she  shall  be  La  Favorita,  although  her  caballeros 
must  weary  her.  If  she  made  them  feel  their  insignifi- 
cance for  a  moment  they  would  fly  to  the  standard  of 
her  rival,  Valencia  Menendez,  and  her  regalities  would 
be  gone  forever.  A  few  of  her  adorers  have  gambled  all 
night  to  dull  the  pangs  of  unrequited  passion,  but  I 
doubt  if  anyone  has  really  loved  her.  Such  women  re- 
ceive a  surfeit  of  admiration,  but  little  love.  If  she 
were  an  unintellectual  woman  she  would  have  an  ex- 
traordinary power  over  men,  with  he*r  beauty  and  her 
subtle  charm ;  but  now  she  is  isolated.  What  a  pity  that 
your  houses  are  at  war ! ' ' 

He  had  been  looking  away  from  me.  As  I  finished 
speaking  he  turned  his  face  slowly  toward  me,  first  the 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  229 

profile,  which  looked  as  if  cut  rapidly  with  a  sharp  knife 
out  of  ivory,  then  the  full  face,  with  its  eyes  set  so 
deeply  under  the  scraggy  brows,  its  mouth  grimly  hu- 
morous. He  looked  somewhat  sardonic  and  decidedly 
selfish.  Well  I  knew  what  that  expression  meant.  He 
had  the  kindest  heart  I  had  ever  known,  but  it  never 
interfered  with  a  most  self-indulgent  nature.  Many 
times  I  had  begged  him  to  be  considerate  of  some  girl 
who  I  knew  charmed  him  for  the  moment  only ;  but  one 
secret  of  his  success  with  women  was  his  unfeigned  if 
brief  enthusiasm. 

"Let  her  alone !"  I  exclaimed.  "You  cannot  marry 
her.  She  would  go  into  a  convent  before  she  would  sac- 
rifice the  traditions  of  her  house.  And  if  you  were  not 
at  war,  and  she  married  you,  you  would  only  make  her 
miserably  happy." 

He  merely  smiled  and  continued  to  look  me  straight  in 
the  eyes. 


CHAPTER   V 

I  WENT  upstairs,  and  found  Chonita  reading  Lander's 
"Imaginary  Conversations. "  (When  Chonita  was 
eighteen — she  was  now  twenty-four — 'Don  Alfredo  Rob- 
inson, one  of  the  American  residents,  had,  at  her  father 's 
request,  sent  to  Boston  for  a  library  of  several  hundred 
books,  a  birthday  gift  for  the  ambitious  daughter  of  the 
Iturbi  y  Moncadas.  The  selection  was  an  admirable  one, 
and  a  rancho  would  have  pleased  her  less.  She  read 
English  and  French  with  ease,  although  she  spoke  both 
languages  brokenly.)  As  I  entered,  she  laid  down  the 
book  and  clasped  her  hands  behind  her  head.  She 
looked  tranquil,  but  less  amiable  than  was  her  wont. 

"You  have  been  far  away  from  the  caballeros  and  the 
donas  of  Monterey, ' '  I  said. 

"Not  even  among  Spanish  ghosts." 

"I  think  you  care  at  heart  for  nothing  but  your 
books." 

' '  And  a  few  people,  and  my  religion. ' ' 

"But  they  come  second,  although  you  will  not  ac- 
knowledge it  even  to  yourself.  Suppose  you  had  to  sac- 
rifice your  religion  or  your  books — never  to  read  another 
— which  would  you  choose?" 

"God  of  my  soul!  what  a  question!  No  Spanish 
woman  was  ever  a  truer  Catholic;  but  to  read  is  my 
happiness,  the  only  happiness  I  want  on  earth. ' ' 

"Are  you  sure  that  to  train  the  intellect  means  hap- 
piness ? ' ' 

"Quite  sure.  Does  it  not  give  us  the  power  to  ab- 
stract ourselves  from  life  when  we  are  .tired  of  it  ? " 

"True;  but  there  is  another  result  you  have  not 
thought  of.  The  more  the  intellect  is  developed,  the 
more  acute  and  aggressive  is  the  nervous  system;  the 

230 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  231 

more  tenacious  is  the  memory,  the  more  has  one  to  live 
with,  and  the  higher  the  ideals.  When  the  time  comes 
for  you  to  live  you  will  suffer  with  double  the  intensity 
and  depth  of  the  woman  whose  nerves  are  dull  or 
stunted.'' 

"To  suffer  you  must  love,  and  I  never  shall  love. 
Whom  is  there  to  love  ?  Books  always  suffice  me,  and  I 
suppose  there  are  enough  in  the  world  to  make  the  time 
pass  as  long  as  I  live. ' ' 

I  did  not  continue  the  argument,  knowing  the  placid 
superiority  of  inexperience. 

"But  you  have  not  yet  told  me  which  you  would 
give  up." 

"The  books,  of  course.  I  hope  I  know  my  duty.  I 
would  sacrifice  all  things  to  my  religion.  But  the 
priests  do  not  interfere  now  as  they  did." 

I  was  very  religious  in  those  days,  and  my  heart  beat 
with  approval.  "I  have  always  said  that  the  Church 
may  let  women  read  what  they  choose.  The  good  prin- 
ciples they  are  born  with  they  will  adhere  to." 

"We  are  by  nature  conservatives,  that  is  all.  And 
we  have  need  of  religion.  We  must  have  something  to 
lean  on,  and  men  are  poor  props,  as  far  as  I  have  ob- 
served. Sometimes  after  having  read  a  long  while  in  an 
absorbing  book,  particularly  one  that  seemed  to  put 
something  with  a  living  hand  into  my  brain  and  make  it 
feel  larger,  I  find  that  I  am  miles  away  from  the 
Church;  I  have  forgotten  its  existence.  I  always  run 
back." 

"Dios!  I  should  think  so.  Yes,  it  is  well  we  do  need 
our  religion.  Men  do  not;  for  that  reason  they  drop  it 
the  moment  the  wings  on  their  minds  grow  fast — as  they 
would,  when  the  warm  sun  came  out,  drop  the  thick 
blanket  of  the  Indian,  borrowed  and  gratefully  worn  in 
dark  uncertain  weather.  I  do  not  dare  ask  Diego  Es- 
tenega  what  he  believes,  lest  he  tell  me  he  believes  noth- 
ing and  I  should  have  to  hear  it.  How  do  you  like  my 
friend,  Chonita?" 


232    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"Are  you  asking  me  how  I  like  the  enemy  of  my 
house  ?  I  hate  him ! ' ' 

"If  he  goes  to  Santa  Barbara  with  Alvarado  this 
summer,  shall  you  ask  him  to  be  your  guest  ? ' ' 

' '  Of  course.  The  enmity  has  always  been  veiled  with 
much  courtesy ;  and  I  would  have  him  see  that  we  know 
how  to  entertain. ' ' 

I  watched  her  covertly;  I  could  detect  no  sign  of  in- 
terest. Presently  she  took  up  the  volume  of  Landor  and 
read  aloud  to  me,  the  stately  English  sounding  oddly 
with  her  Spanish  accent. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AT  ten  o'clock  the  large  sala  of  the  Governor's  house 
was  thronged  with  guests,  and  the  music  of  the  flute, 
harp,  and  guitar  floated  through  the  open  windows ;  the 
musicians  sat  on  the  corridor.  How  harmonious  was 
the  Monterey  ballroom  of  that  day! — the  women  in 
their  white  gowns  of  every  rich  material,  the  men  in 
white  trousers,  black  silk  jackets,  and  low  morocco  shoes ; 
no  color  except  in  the  jewels  and  the  rich  Southern 
faces.  The  bare  ugly  sala,  from  which  the  uglier  fur- 
niture had  been  removed,  needed  no  ornaments  with  that 
moving  beauty;  and  even  the  coffee-colored  high-stom- 
ached old  people  were  picturesque.  I  wander  through 
those  deserted  salas  sometimes,  and,  as  the  tears  blister 
my  eyes,  imagination  and  memory  people  the  cold  rooms, 
and  I  forget  that  the  dashing  caballeros  and  lovely  donas 
who  once  called  Monterey  their  own  and  made  it  a  liv- 
ing picture-book,  are  dust  beneath  the  wild  oats  and 
thistles  of  the  deserted  cemetery  on  the  hill.  The  Amer- 
icans hardly  know  that  such  a  people  once  existed. 

Chonita  entered  the  sala  at  eleven  o  'clock,  looking  like 
a  snow  queen.  Her  gold  hair,  which  always  glittered  like 
metal,  was  arranged  to  simulate  a  crown;  she  wore  a 
gown  of  Spanish  lace,  and  no  jewels  but  the  string  of 
black  pearls.  I  never  had  seen  her  look  so  cold  and  so 
regal. 

Estenega  stepped  out  upon  the  corridor.  "Play  El 
Son,"  he  said  peremptorily.  Then  as  the  vivacious  mu- 
sic began  he  walked  over  to  Chonita  and  clapped  his 
hands  in  front  of  her  as  authoritatively  as  he  had  bidden 
the  musicians.  What  he  did  was  of  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  Californian  ballroom,  but  she  looked  haughtily 
rebellious.  He  continued  to  strike  his  hands  together, 

233 


234    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

and  looked  down  upon  her  with  an  amused  smile  which 
brought  the  angry  color  to  her  face.  Her  hesitation 
aroused  the  eagerness  of  the  other  men,  and  they  cried 
loudly : 

1 '  El  Son !    El  Son !  senorita. ' ' 

She  could  no  longer  refuse,  and,  passing  Estenega 
with  head  erect,  she  bent  it  slightly  to  the  caballeros  and 
passed  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  the  other  guests  re- 
treating to  the  wall.  She  stood  for  a  moment,  swaying 
her  body  slightly;  then,  raising  her  gown  high  enough 
for  the  lace  to  sweep  the  instep  of  her  small  arched  feet, 
she  tapped  the  floor  in  exact  time  to  the  music  for  a  few 
moments,  then  glided  dreamily  along  the  sala,  her  wil- 
lowy body  falling  in  lovely  lines,  unfolding  every  detail 
of  El  Son,  unheeding  the  low  ripple  of  approval.  Then, 
dropping  her  gown,  she  spun  the  length  of  the  room  like 
a  white  cloud  caught  in  a  cyclone ;  her  garments  whirred, 
her  heels  clicked,  her  motion  grew  faster  and  swifter, 
until  the  spectators  panted  for  breath.  Then,  unmindful 
of  the  lively  melody,  she  drifted  slowly  down,  swaying 
languidly,  her  long  round  arms  now  lolling  in  the  lace 
of  her  gown,  now  lifted  to  graceful  sweep  and  curve. 
The  caballeros  shouted  their  appreciation,  flinging  gold 
and  silver  at  her  feet ;  never  had  El  Son  been  given  with 
such  variations  before.  Never  did  I  see  greater  enthusi- 
asm until  the  night  which  culminated  the  tragedy  of 
Ysabel  Herrera.  Estenega  stood  enraptured,  watching 
every  motion  of  her  body,  every  expression  of  her  face. 
The  blood  blazed  in  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  were  like  green 
stars,  and  sparkled  wickedly.  The  cold  curves  of  her 
statuesque  mouth  were  warm  and  soft,  her  chin  was 
saucily  uplifted,  her  heavy  waving  hair  fell  over  her 
shoulders  to  her  knees,  a  glittering  veil.  Where  had 
The  Doomswoman,  the  proud  daughter  of  the  Iturbi  y 
Moncadas,  gone? 

The  girls  were  a  little  frightened;  this  was  not  the 
dance  to  which  they  were  accustomed.  The  young  ma- 
trons frowned.  The  old  people  exclaimed,  "Caramba!" 
' '  Mother  of  God ! "  "  Holy  Mary ! "  I  was  aghast ;  well 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  235 

as  I  knew  her,  this  was  a  piece  of  audacity  for  which  I 
was  unprepared. 

As  the  dance  went  on  and  she  grew  more  and  more 
like  an  untamed  wood-nymph,  even  the  caballeros  be- 
came vaguely  uneasy,  hotly  as  they  admired  the  beautiful 
wild  thing  enchaining  their  gaze.  I  looked  again  at 
Estenega,  and  knew  that  his  heart  beat  in  passionate 
sympathy. 

"I  have  found  her,"  he  murmured  exultantly.  "She 
is  California,  magnificent,  audacious,  incomprehensible, 
a  creature  of  storms  and  convulsions  and  impregnable 
calm ;  the  germs  of  all  good  and  all  bad  in  her ;  woman 
sublimated.  Every  husk  of  tradition  has  fallen  from 
her." 

Once,  as  she  passed  Estenega,  her  eyes  met  his.  They 
lit  with  a  glance  of  recognition,  then  the  lids  drooped, 
and  she  floated  on.  He  left  the  room,  and  when  he  re- 
turned she  sat  on  a  window-seat,  surrounded  by  cabal- 
leros, as  calm  and  as  pale  as  when  he  had  commanded 
her  to  dance.  He  did  not  approach  her,  but  joined  me 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  sala,  where  I  stood  with  Alva- 
rado,  the  Castros,  Don  Thomas  Larkin — the  United 
States  Consul — and  half  a  dozen  others.  We  were  dis- 
cussing Chonita's  interpretation  of  El  Son. 

"That  was  a  strange  outbreak  for  a  Spanish  girl," 
said  Senor  Larkin. 

"She  is  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,"  said  Castro  se- 
verely. "She  is  like  no  other  woman,  and  what  she 
does  is  right." 

The  consul  bowed.  "True,  coronel.  I  have  seen  no 
one  here  like  Dona  Chonita.  There  is  a  delicious  uni- 
formity about  the  Calif ornian  women;  so  reserved, 
shrinking  yet  dignified,  ever  on  their  guard.  Dona  Cho- 
nita changed  so  swiftly  from  the  typical  woman  of  her 
race  to  an  houri,  almost  a  bacchante — only  an  extraordi- 
nary refinement  of  nature  kept  her  this  side  of  the  line 
— that  an  American  would  be  tempted  to  call  her  ec- 
centric." 

Alvarado  lifted  his  hand  and  pointed  through  the 


236    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

window  to  the  stars.  ' '  The  golden  coals  in  the  blue  fire 
of  heaven  are  not  higher  above  censure/'  he  said. 

Doiia  Modeste  raised  her  eyebrows.  "Coals  are 
safest  when  burned  on  the  domestic  hearth  and  care- 
fully watched;  safer  still  when  they  have  fallen  to 
ashes. ' ' 

"What  is  this  rumor  of  pirates  on  the  coast?"  de- 
manded Alvarado  abruptly. 

I  put  my  hand  through  Estenega  's  arm  and  drew  him 
aside.  The  music  of  the  contradanza  was  playing,  and 
we  stood  against  the  wall. 

"Well,  you  know  Chonita  better  since  that  dance,"  I 
said  to  him.  "Polar  stars  are  not  unlikely  to  have  vol- 
canoes. Better  let  the  deeps  alone,  my  friend ;  the  lava 
might  scorch  you  badly.  Women  of  complex  natures 
are  interesting  studies,  but  dangerous  to  love.  They 
wear  the  nerves  to  a  point,  and  the  tired  brain  and  heart 
turn  gratefully  to  the  crystalline  idle-minded  woman. 
She  is  too  much  like  yourself,  Diego.  And  you — how 
long  could  you  love  anybody?  Love  with  you  means 
curiosity." 

His  face  looked  like  chalk  for  a  moment,  an  indica- 
tion with  him  of  suppressed  and  violent  emotion.  Then 
he  turned  his  head  and  regarded  me  with  a  slight  smile. 
"Not  altogether.  You  forget  that  the  most  faithless 
men  have  been  the  most  faithful  when  they  have  found 
the  one  woman.  Curiosity  and  fickleness  mean  restless 
seeking — nothing  more. ' ' 

"I  was  sure  you  would  acquit  yourself  with  credit! 
But  you  have  an  unholy  charm,  and  you  never  hesitate 
to  exert  it." 

He  laughed  outright.  "One  would  think  I  was  a 
rattlesnake.  My  unholy  charm  consists  of  a  reasonable 
amount  of  address  born  of  a  great  weakness  for  women, 
and  some  personal  magnetism — the  latter  the  offspring 
of  the  habit  of  mental  concentration " 

"And  an  inexorable  will " 

"Perhaps.  As  to  the  exercise  of  it — why  not?  Vive 
la  lagatelle!" 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  237 

"It  is  useless  to  argue  with  you.  Are  you  going  to 
let  that  girl  alone  V 

"She  is  the  only  girl  in  the  Calif ornias  whom  I  shall 
not  let  alone. ' ' 

I  could  have  shaken  him.  "To  what  end?  And  her 
brother?  I  have  often  wondered  which  would  rule  you 
in  a  crisis,  your  head  or  your  passions. ' ' 

"It  would  depend  upon  the  crisis.  I  am  afraid  you 
are  right — that  altiloquent  Eeinaldo  will  give  trouble." 

"Is  it  true  that  he  has  been  conspiring  with  Carillo, 
and  that  an  extraordinary  and  secret  session  of  the 
Departmental  Junta  has  been  called?" 

He  looked  down  upon  me  with  his  grimmest  smile. 
"You  curious  little  woman!  You  must  not  put  your 
white  fingers  into  the  Departmental  pie.  If  you  had 
been  a  man,  with  as  good  a  brain  as  you  have  for  a 
woman,  you  would  have  been  an  ornament  to  our  poli- 
tics. But  as  it  is — pardon  me — the  better  for  our  bal- 
ancing country  the  less  you  have  to  do  with  it. ' ' 

I  could  feel  my  eyes  snap.  "You  respect  no  woman's 
mind, ' '  I  said  savagely ;  ' '  nothing  but  the  woman  in  her. 
But  I  will  not  quarrel  with  you.  Tell  that  baby  over 
there  to  come  and  waltz  with  me." 

At  dawn,  as  we  entered  our  room,  I  seized  Chonita 
by  the  shoulders  and  shook  her.  "What  did  you  mean 
by  such  a  performance  ? "  I  demanded.  '  *  It  was  unprece- 
dented!" 

She  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed.  "I  could  not 
help  it,"  she  said.  "First,  I  felt  an  irresistible  desire 
to  show  Monterey  that  I  dared  do  anything  I  chose. 
And  then  I  have  a  wild  something  in  me  which  has 
often  threatened  to  break  loose  before;  and  to-night  it 
did.  It  was  that  man.  He  made  me." 

"Ay,  Dios!"  I  thought,  "it  has  begun  already." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  festivities  were  to  last  a  week,  everyone  taking  part 
but  Alvarado  and  Dona  Martina.  She  was  not  strong 
enough;  the  Governor  cared  more  for  duty  than  for 
pleasure. 

The  next  day  we  had  a  merienda  on  the  hills  behind 
the  town.  The  green  pine  woods  were  gay  with  the 
bright  colors  of  the  young  people.  Here  and  there  a 
caballero  dashed  up  and  down  to  show  his  horsemanship 
and  the  silver  and  embroidered  silk  of  his  saddle.  Sil- 
ver, too,  were  his  jingling  spurs,  the  eagles  on  his  som- 
brero, the  buttons  on  his  colorous  silken  jacket.  Horses, 
without  exception  handsomely  trapped,  were  tethered 
everywhere,  pawing  the  ground  or  nibbling  the  grass. 
The  girls  wore  white  or  flowered  silk  or  muslin  gowns, 
and  rebosos  about  their  heads;  the  brown  ugly  duenas, 
ever  at  their  sides,  were  foils  they  would  gladly  have 
dispensed  with.  The  tinkle  of  the  guitar  never  ceased, 
and  the  sweet  voices  of  the  girls  and  the  rich  voices  of 
the  men  broke  forth  with  the  joyous  spontaneity  of  the 
birds'  songs  about  them. 

Chonita  wore  a  white  silk  gown,  I  remember,  flow- 
ered with  blue — large  blue  lilies.  The  reboso  matched 
the  gown.  As  soon  as  we  arrived — we  were  a  little  late 
— she  was  surrounded  by  caballeros,  who  hardly  knew 
whether  to  like  her  or  not,  but  who  adhered  to  the 
knowledge  that  she  was  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the 
most  famous  beauty  of  the  South. 

"Dios!  but  thou  art  beautiful/'  murmured  one,  his 
dreamy  eyes  dwelling  on  her  shining  hair. 

"Gracias,  senor!"  She  whispered  it  as  bashfully  as 
the  maidens  to  whom  he  was  accustomed,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  a  rose  she  held. 

238 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  239 

"Will  you  not  stay  with  us  here  in  Monterey?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  slowly — he  could  not  but  feel  the 
effort — gave  him  one  bewildering  glance,  half  appealing, 
half  protesting,  then  dropped  them  suddenly. 

"Wilt  thou  stay  with  me?"  panted  the  caballero. 

"Ay,  senor!  you  must  not  speak  like  that.  Someone 
will  hear  you." 

' '  I  care  not !  God  of  my  life !  I  care  not !  Wilt  thou 
marry  me?" 

* '  You  must  not  speak  to  me  of  marriage,  senor.  It  is 
to  my  father  you  should  speak.  Would  I,  a  Californian 
maiden,  betroth  myself  without  his  knowledge  ? ' ' 

' '  Holy  Heaven !  I  will !  But  give  me  one  word  that 
thou  lovest  me — one  word!" 

She  lifted  her  chin  saucily  and  turned  to  another 
caballero,  who,  I  doubt  not,  proposed  also.  Estenega, 
who  had  watched  her,  laughed. 

"She  acts  the  part  to  perfection,"  he  said  to  me. 
"Either  natural  or  acquired  coquetry  has  more  to  do 
with  saving  her  from  the  solitary  plane  of  the  intellec- 
tual woman  than  her  beauty  or  her  father 's  wealth.  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  it  is  acquired.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  she  is  a  coquette  at  heart,  any  more  than  that 
she  is  the  marble  doomswoman  she  fondly  believes  her- 
self." 

"You  will  tell  her  that,"  I  exclaimed  angrily;  "and 
she  will  end  by  loving  you  because  you  understand  her ; 
all  women  want  to  be  understood.  Why  don't  you  go 
to  Paris  again?  You  have  not  been  there  for  a  long 
time." 

Not  deeming  this  suggestion  worthy  of  answer,  he  left 
me  and  joined  the  little  court  about  Chonita,  who  was 
glancing  over  the  top  of  her  fan  into  the  ardent  eyes 
of  a  third  caballero. 

"You  will  step  on  a  bunch  of  nettles  in  a  moment," 
he  said  practically.  "Your  slippers  are  very  thin;  you 
had  better  stand  over  here  on  the  path."  And  he  dex- 
terously separated  her  from  the  other  men,  "Will  you 


240    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

walk  to  that  opening  over  there  with  me?  I  want  to 
show  you  a  better  view  of  Monterey. ' ' 

His  manner  had  not  a  touch  of  gallantry,  and  she 
was  tired  of  the  cahalleros. 

"Very  well,"  she  said.    "I  will  look  at  the  view." 

As  she  followed  him  she  noted  that  he  led  her  where 
the  bushes  were  thinnest,  and  kicked  the  stones  from  her 
path.  She  also  remarked  the  nervous  energy  of  his  thin 
figure.  * t  It  comes  from  his  love  of  the  Americans, ' '  she 
thought  angrily.  "He  must  even  walk  like  them.  The 
Americans ! ' '  And  she  brought  her  teeth  together  with 
a  sharp  click. 

He  turned,  smiling.  "You  look  very  disapproving," 
he  said.  "What  have  I  done?" 

"You  look  like  an  American!  You  even  wear  their 
clothes,  and  they  are  the  color  of  smoke ;  and  you  wear 
no  lace.  How  cold  and  uninteresting  a  scene  would  this 
be  if  all  the  men  were  dressed  as  you  are ! ' ' 

"We  cannot  all  be  made  for  decorative  purposes. 
And  you  are  as  unlike  those  girls,  in  all  but  your  dress, 
as  I  am  unlike  the  men.  I  will  not  incur  your  wrath 
by  saying  that  you  are  American;  but  you  are  modern. 
Our  lovely  compatriots  were  the  same  three  hundred 
years  ago.  Will  Dona  California  be  pleased  to  observe 
that  whale  spouting  in  the  bay?  There  is  the  tree  be- 
neath which  Junipero  Serra  said  his  first  mass  in  this 
part  of  the  country.  Did  you  ever  see  bay  bluer  than 
that?  or  sand  whiter?  or  a  more  perfect  semicircle  of 
hills  than  this?  or  a  more  straggling  town?  There  is 
the  Custom-house  on  the  rocks.  You  will  go  to  a  ball 
there  to-night,  and  hear  the  boom  of  the  surf  as  you 
dance."  He  turned  with  one  of  his  sudden  impatient 
motions.  ' '  Suppose  we  ride.  The  air  is  too  sharp  to  lie 
about  under  the  trees.  This  white  horse  mates  your 
gown.  Let  us  go  over  to  Carmelo." 

"I  should  like  to  go,"  she  said  doubtfully;  his  abrupt- 
ness and  energy  were  like  a  running  fire  of  criticism  on 
the  languid  men  of  her  race,  and  she  resented  it,  but  his 
conversation  interested  her,  and  her  free  spirit  ap- 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  241 

proved  of  a  ride  over  the  hills  unattended  by  duena. 
"But — you  know — I  do  not  like  you." 

' '  Oh,  never  mind  that ;  the  ride  will  interest  you  just 
the  same."  And  he  lifted  her  to  the  horse,  sprang  on 
another,  caught  her  bridle,  lest  she  should  rebel,  and 
galloped  up  the  road.  When  they  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hill  he  slackened  speed  and  looked  at  her 
with  a  smile.  She  was  inclined  to  be  angry,  but  found 
herself  watching  the  varying  expressions  of  his  mouth, 
which  diverted  her  mind.  It  was  a  baffling  mouth,  even 
to  experienced  women,  and  Chonita  could  make  nothing 
of  it.  It  had  neither  sweetness  nor  softness,  but  she 
had  never  felt  impelled  to  study  the  mouth  of  a  cabal- 
lero.  And  then  she  wondered  how  a  man  with  a  mouth 
like  that  could  have  manners  so  gentle. 

"Are  you  aware,"  he  said  abruptly,  "that  your 
brother  is  accused  of  conspiracy  ? ' ' 

"What?"  She  looked  at  him  as  if  she  inferred  that 
this  was  the  order  of  badinage  that  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada  might  expect  from  an  Estenega. 

"I  am  not  joking.    It  is  quite  true." 

"It  is  not  true!  Keinaldo  conspire  against  his  gov- 
ernment? Some  one  has  lied.  And  you  are  ready  to 
believe!" 

"I  hope  some  one  has  lied.  The  news  is  very  direct, 
however. ' '  He  looked  at  her  speculatively.  ' '  The  more 
obstacles  the  better, ' '  he  thought ;  l '  and  we  may  as  well 
declare  war  on  this  question  at  once.  It  would  be  idle 
to  begin  as  a  hypocrite,  when  every  act  would  tell  her 
what  I  thought  of  him.  Moreover,  he  will  have  more  or 
less  influence  over  her  until  her  eyes  are  opened  to  his 
true  worth.  She  will  not  believe  me,  of  course,  but  she 
is  a  woman  who  only  needs  an  impetus  to  do  a  good 
deal  of  thinking  and  noting." 

"I  am  going  to  make  you  angry,"  he  said.  "I  am 
going  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  share  your  admiration  of 
your  brother.  He  has  ten  thousand  words  for  every 
idea,  and  although,  God  knows,  we  have  more  time  than 
anything  else  in  this  land  of  the  poppy  where  only  the 


242    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

horses  run,  still  there  are  more  profitable  ways  of  em- 
ploying it  than  to  listen  to  meaningless  and  bombastic 
words.  Moreover,  your  brother  is  a  dangerous  man. 
No  man  is  so  safe  in  seclusion  as  the  one  of  large  vani- 
ties and  small  abilities.  He  is  not  big  enough  to  con- 
ceive a  revolution,  but  is  ready  to  be  the  tool  of  any 
unscrupulous  man  who  is,  and,  having  too  much  egotism 
to  follow  orders,  will  ruin  a  project  at  the  last  moment 
by  attempting  to  think  for  himself.  I  do  not  say  these 
things  wantonly  to  insult  you,  senorita,  only  to  let  you 
know  at  once  how  I  regard  your  brother,  that  you  may 
not  accuse  me  of  treachery  or  hypocrisy  later. ' ' 

He  had  expected  and  hoped  that  she  would  turn  upon 
him  with  a  burst  of  fury ;  but  she  had  drawn  herself  up 
to  her  most  stately  height.  Her  mouth  was  as  hard  as 
a  pink  jewel,  her  eyes  glittered  like  ice. 

"Sefior,"  she  said,  "it  seems  to  me  that  you,  too, 
waste  many  words — in  speaking  of  my  brother ;  for  what 
you  say  of  him  cannot  interest  me.  I  have  known  him 
for  twenty-two  years;  you  have  seen  him  four  or  six 
times.  What  can  you  tell  me  of  him?  Not  only  is  he 
my  brother  and  the  natural  object  of  my  love  and  devo- 
tion, but  he  is  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the  last  male 
descendant  of  his  house,  and  as  such  I  hold  him  in  a 
regard  only  second  to  that  which  I  bear  to  my  father. 
And  with  the  blood  in  him  he  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  a  great  and  good  man. ' ' 

Estenega  looked  at  her  with  the  first  stab  of  doubt  he 
had  felt.  ' '  She  is  Spanish  in  her  marrow, ' '  he  thought — 
"the  steadfast  unreasoning  child  of  traditions.  I  could 
not  well  be  at  greater  disadvantage.  But  she  is  mag- 
nificent. ' ' 

"Another  thing  which  was  unnecessary,"  she  added, 
"was  to  defend  yourself  to  me  or  to  tell  me  how  you 
feel  toward  my  brother,  and  why.  We  are  enemies  by 
tradition  and  instinct.  We  shall  rarely  meet,  and  shall 
probably  never  talk  together  again." 

1 1  We  shall  talk  together  more  times  than  you  will  care 
to  count.  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,  and  you  shall  lis- 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  243 

ten.  But  we  will  discuss  the  matter  no  further  at 
present.  Shall  we  gallop  ?" 

He  spurred  his  horse,  and  once  more  they  fled  through 
the  pine  woods.  Before  long  they  entered  the  valley  of 
Carmelo.  The  mountains  were  massive  and  gloomy,  the 
little  bay  was  blue  and  quiet,  the  surf  of  the  ocean 
roared  about  Point  Lobos,  Carmelo  River  crawled  be- 
neath its  willows.  In  the  middle  of  the  valley  stood  the 
impressive  yellow  church,  with  its  Roman  tower  and 
rose-window ;  about  it  were  the  crumbling  brown  hovels 
of  the  deserted  Mission.  Once  as  they  rode  Estenega 
thought  he  heard  voices,  but  could  not  be  sure,  so  loud 
was  the  clatter  of  the  horses'  hoofs.  As  they  reached 
the  square  they  drew  rein  swiftly,  the  horses  standing 
upright  at  the  sudden  halt.  Then  strange  sounds  came 
to  them  through  the  open  doors  of  the  church;  ribald 
shouts  and  loud  laughter,  curses  and  noise  of  smashing 
glass,  such  songs  as  never  were  sung  in  Carmelo  before ; 
an  infernal  clash  of  sound  which  mingled  incongruously 
with  the  solemn  mass  of  the  surf.  Chonita  's  eyes  flashed. 
Even  Estenega 's  face  darkened;  the  traditions  planted 
in  plastic  youth  arose  and  rebelled  at  the  desecration. 

"Some  drunken  sailors,"  he  said.  "There — do  you 
see  that?"  A  craft  rounded  Point  Lobos.  "Pirates!" 

"Holy  Mary!"  exclaimed  Chonita. 

"Let  down  your  hair,"  he  said  peremptorily;  "and 
follow  all  that  I  suggest.  We  will  drive  them  out." 

She  obeyed  him  without  question,  excited  and  inter- 
ested. Then  they  rode  to  the  doors  and  threw  them 
wide. 

The  upper  end  of  the  long  church  was  swarming  with 
pirates;  there  was  no  mistaking  those  bold  cruel  faces, 
blackened  by  sun  and  wind,  half  covered  with  ragged 
hair.  They  stood  on  the  benches,  they  bestrode  the  rail- 
ing, they  swarmed  over  the  altar,  shouting  and  carous- 
ing in  riotous  wassail.  Their  coarse  red  shirts  were 
flung  back  from  hairy  chests ;  their  faces  were  distorted 
with  rum  and  sacrilegious  delight.  Every  station,  every 
candlestick,  had  been  hurled  to  the  floor  and  trampled 


244    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

upon.  The  crucifix  stood  on  its  head.  Sitting  high  on 
the  altar,  reeling  and  waving  a  communion  goblet,  was 
the  drunken  chief,  singing  a  blasphemous  song  of  the 
pirate  seas.  The  voices  rumbled  strangely  down  the 
hollow  body  of  the  church ;  to  perfect  the  scene,  flames 
should,  have  leaped  among  the  swinging  arms  and  bound- 
ing forms. 

"Come/'  said  Estenega.  He  spurred  his  horse,  and 
together  they  galloped  down  the  stone  pavement  of  the 
edifice.  The  men  turned  at  the  loud  sound  of  horses' 
hoofs;  "but  the  riders  were  in  their  midst,  scattering 
them  right  and  left,  before  they  realized  what  was  hap- 
pening. The  horses  were  brought  to  a  sudden  halt. 
Estenega  rose  in  his  stirrups,  his  fine  bold  face  looking 
down  impassively  upon  the  demoniacal  gang,  that  could 
have  rent  him  apart,  but  that  stood,  silent  and  startled, 
gazing  from  him  to  the  beautiful  woman,  whose  white 
gown  looked  part  of  the  white  horse  she  rode.  Estenega 
raised  his  hand  and  pointed  to  Chonita. 

' '  The  Virgin ! ' '  he  said,  in  a  hollow,  impressive  voice. 
"The  Mother  of  God!  She  has  come  to  defend  her 
church.  Go!" 

Chonita 's  face  blanched  to  the  lips,  but  she  looked  at 
the  sacrilegists  sternly.  Fortune  favored  the  audacity 
of  Estenega.  The  sunlight,  drifting  through  the  star- 
window  above  the  doors  at  the  lower  end  of  the  church, 
smote  the  uplifted  golden  head  of  Chonita,  wreathing 
it  with  a  halo,  gifting  the  face  with  unearthly  beauty. 

"Go!"  repeated  Estenega,  "lest  she  weep.  With  ev- 
ery tear  a  heart  will  cease  to  beat. ' ' 

The  chief  scrambled  down  from  the  altar  and  ran 
like  a  rat  past  Chonita,  his  swollen  mouth  drooping. 
The  others  crouched  and  followed,  stumbling  one  over 
the  other,  their  dark  evil  faces  bloodless,  their  knees 
knocking  together  with  superstitious  terror.  They  fled 
from  the  church  and  down  to  the  bay,  and  swam  to 
their  craft.  Estenega  and  Chonita  rode  out.  They 
watched  the  ugly  vessel  scurry  round  Point  Lobos. 
Then  Chonita  spoke  for  the  first  time. 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  245 

" Blasphemer!"  she  exclaimed.  " Mother  of  God,  wilt 
thou  ever  forgive  me  ? " 

1 1  Why  not  call  me  a  Jesuit  ?  It  was  a  case  where  mind 
or  matter  must  triumph.  And  you  can  confess  your 
enforced  sin,  say  a  hundred  aves  or  so,  and  be  whiter 
than  snow  again ;  whereas,  had  our  Mission  of  Carmelo 
been  razed  to  the  ground,  as  it  was  in  a  fair  way  to  be, 
California  would  have  lost  an  historical  monument. ' ' 

"And  Junipero  Serra's  bones  are  there,  and  it  was 
his  favorite  Mission,"  said  the  girl  unwillingly. 

"Exactly.  And  now  that  you  are  reasonably  sure  of 
being  forgiven,  will  not  you  forgive  me?  I  shall  ask 
no  priest's  forgiveness." 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  then  shook  her  head. 
"  No ;  I  cannot  forgive  you  for  having  made  me  commit 
what  may  be  a  mortal  sin.  But,  Holy  Heaven ! — I  can- 
not help  saying  it — you  are  very  quick!" 

"For  each  idea  is  a  moment  born.  Upon  whether 
we  wed  the  two  or  think  too  late  depends  the  success  or 
the  failure  of  our  lives. ' ' 

"Suppose,"  she  said  suddenly,  "suppose  you  had 
failed,  and  those  men  had  seized  me  and  made  me  cap- 
tive ;  what  then  ? ' ' 

"I  should  have  killed  you.  Not  one  of  them  should 
have  touched  you.  But  I  had  no  doubts,  or  I  should  not 
have  made  the  attempt.  I  know  the  superstitious  na- 
ture of  sailors,  especially  when  they  are  drunk.  Shall 
we  gallop  back?  They  will  have  eaten  all  the  dulces." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MONTEREY  danced  every  night,  and  all  night,  of  that 
week,  either  at  Alvarado 's  or  at  the  Custom-house,  and 
every  afternoon  met  at  the  races,  the  bull-fight,  a  meri- 
enda,  or  to  climb  the  greased  pole,  catch  the  greased  pig 
by  its  tail  as  it  ran,  or  exhibit  skill  in  horsemanship. 
Chonita,  at  times  an  imperious  coquette,  at  others  in- 
different, perverse,  or  coy,  was  La  Favorita  without  ap- 
peal, and  the  girls  alternately  worshiped  her — she  was 
abstractedly  kind  to  them — or  heartily  wished  her  back 
in  Santa  Barbara.  Estenega  rarely  attended  the  sociali- 
ties, being  closeted  with  Alvarado  and  Castro  most  of 
the  time,  and  when  he  did  she  avoided  him  if  she  could. 
The  pirates  had  fled  and  were  seen  no  more;  but  their 
abrupt  retreat,  as  describd  by  Chonita,  continued  to  be 
an  exciting  topic  of  discussion.  There  were  few  of  us 
who  did  not  openly  or  secretly  approve  of  Estenega  ?s 
Jesuitism  and  admire  the  nimbleness  of  his  mind.  The 
clergy  did  not  express  itself. 

On  the  last  night  of  the  festivities,  when  the  women, 
weary  with  the  unusually  late  hours  of  the  past  week, 
had  left  the  ballroom  early  and  sought  their  beds,  and 
the  men,  being  at  loss  for  other  amusement,  had  gone  in 
a  body  to  a  saloon,  there  to  drink  and  gamble  and  set 
fire  to  each  other's  curls  and  trouser-seats,  the  Depart- 
mental Junta  met  in  secret  session.  The  night  was  warm, 
the  plaza  deserted ;  all  who  were  not  in  the  saloon  at  the 
other  end  of  the  town  were  asleep ;  after  the  preliminary 
words  in  Alvarado 's  office  the  Junta  picked  up  their 
chairs  and  went  forth  to  hold  conclave  where  bulls  and 
bears  had  fought  and  the  large  indulgent  moon  gave 
clearer  light  than  suet  lamps.  They  drew  close 
together,  and,  after  rolling  the  cigarito,  solemnly  re- 

246 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  247 

garded  the  sky  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking. 
Their  purpose  was  a  grave  one.  They  met  to  try  Pio 
Pico  for  contempt  of  government  and  annoying  insist- 
ence in  behalf  of  his  pet  project  to  remove  the  capital 
from  Monterey  to  Los  Angeles;  Jose  Antonio  Carillo 
and  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y  Moncada  for  conspiracy ;  and  Gen- 
eral Vallejo  for  evil  disposition  and  unwarrantable  com- 
ments upon  the  policy  of  the  administration.  None  of 
the  offenders  was  present. 

With  the  exception  of  Alvarado,  Castro,  and  Estenega, 
the  members  of  the  Junta  were  men  of  middle  age  and 
represented  the  political  talent  of  California — Ximeno, 
Gonzale|,  Argiiello,  Requena,  Del  Valle.  Their  dark 
bearded  faces,  upturned  to  the  stars,  made  a  striking  set 
of  profiles ;  but,  alas !  about  each  dome  of  wisdom  a  silk 
handkerchief  was  knotted,  the  ends  standing  out  straight. 

Alvarado  spoke,  finally,  and,  after  presenting  the 
charges  in  due  form,  continued : 

1 '  The  individual  enemy  to  the  government  is  like  the 
fly  to  the  lion;  it  cannot  harm,  but  it  can  annoy.  We 
must  brush  away  the  fly  as  a  vindication  of  our  dignity, 
and  take  precaution  that  he  does  not  return,  even  if  we 
have  to  bend  our  heads  to  tie  his  little  legs.  I  do  not 
purpose  to  be  annoyed  by  these  blistering  midgets  we 
are  met  to  consider,  nor  to  have  my  term  of  administra- 
tion spotted  with  their  gall.  I  leave  it  to  you,  my  com- 
patriots and  friends,  to  advise  me  what  is  best  to  do. ' ' 

Ximeno  put  his  feet  on  the  side  rung  of  Castro 's  chair, 
puffed  a  large  gray  cloud,  and  half  closed  his  eyes.  He 
then,  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  in  a  low  musical 
voice,  discoursed  upon  the  dignity  of  the  administration 
and  the  depravity  of  the  offenders.  When  his  brethren 
were  beginning  to  drop  their  heads  and  breathe  heavily, 
Alvarado  politely  interrupted  him  and  referred  the  mat- 
ter to  Castro. 

" Imprison  them!"  exclaimed  the  impetuous  General, 
suddenly  alert.  "With  such  a  Governor  and  such  a 
people,  this  should  be  a  land  white  as  the  mountain- 
tops,  unblemished  by  the  tracks  of  mean,  ambitions  and 


248    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

sinful  revolutions.  Let  us  be  summary,  although  not 
cruel;  let  no  man's  blood  flow  while  there  are  prisons 
in  the  Calif ornias;  but  we  must  pluck  up  the  roots  of 
conspiracy  and  disquiet,  lest  a  thousand  suckers  grow 
about  them,  as  about  the  half-cut  trunks  of  our  red- 
wood trees,  and  our  Californias  be  no  better  than  any 
degenerate  country  of  the  Old  World.  Let  us  cast  them 
into  prison  without  further  debate. ' ' 

' '  The  law,  my  dear  Jose,  gives  them  a  trial, ' '  drawled 
Gonzales.  And  then  for  a  half  hour  he  quoted  such  law 
as  was  known  in  the  country.  When  he  finished,  the 
impatient  and  suppressed  members  of  the  Junta  deliv- 
ered their  opinions  simultaneously;  only  Estenega  had 
nothing  to  say.  They  argued  and  suggested,  cited  evi- 
dence, defended  and  denounced,  lashing  themselves  into 
a  mighty  excitement.  At  length  they  were  all  on  their 
feet,  gesticulating  and  prancing. 

" Mother  of  God!"  cried  Requena.  "Let  us  give 
Vallejo  a  taste  of  his  own  cruelty.  Let  us  put  him  in  a 
temascal  and  set  those  of  his  Indian  victims  who  are 
still  alive  to  roast  him  out " 

"No!  no!  Vallejo  is  maligned.  He  had  no  hand  in 
that  massacre.  His  heart  is  whiter  than  an  angel's " 

"It  is  his  liver  that  is  white.  His  heart  is  black  as  a 
black  snake's.  To  the  devil  with  him!" 

"Make  a  law  that  Pio  Pico  can  never  put  foot  out  of 
Los  Angeles  again,  since  he  loves  it  so  well " 

"His  ugly  face  would  spoil  the  next  generation " 

"Death  to  Carillo  and  Iturbi  y  Moncada!  Death  to 
all!  Let  the  poison  out  of  the  veins  of  California!" 

"No!  no!  As  little  blood  in  California  as  possible. 
Put  them  in  prison,  and  keep  them  on  frijoles  and  water 
for  a  year.  That  will  cure  rebellion;  no  chickens,  no 
dulces,  no  aguardiente " 

Alvarado  brought  his  staff  of  office  down  sharply  upon 
a  board  he  had  provided  for  the  purpose. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "will  you  not  sit  down  and 
smoke  another  cigarito  ?  We  must  be  calm. ' ' 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  249 

The  Junta  took  to  its  chairs  at  once.  Alvarado  never 
failed  to  command  respect. 

"Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  the  Governor,  "will  you 
tell  us  what  you  have  thought  while  the  others  have 
talked?" 

Estenega,  who  had  been  star-gazing,  turned  to  Al- 
varado, ignoring  the  Junta.  His  keen  brilliant  eyes 
gave  the  Governor  a  thrill  of  relief ;  his  mouth  expressed 
a  mind  made  up  and  intolerant  of  argument. 

"Vallejo,"  he  said,  "is  like  a  horse  that  will  neither 
run  nor  back  into  his  stall;  he  merely  stands  still  and 
kicks.  His  kicking  makes  a  noise  and  raises  a  dust,  but 
does  no  harm.  In  other  words,  he  will  irritate,  but 
never  take  a  responsibility.  Send  him  an  official  notice 
that  if  he  does  not  keep  quiet  an  armed  force  will  march 
upon  Sonoma  and  imprison  him  in  his  own  house,  hu- 
miliating him  before  the  eyes  of  his  soldiers  and  re- 
tainers. 

"As  for  Pio  Pico,  threaten  to  fine  and  punish  him. 
He  will  apologize  at  once,  and  be  quiet  for  six  months, 
when  you  can  call  another  secret  session  and  issue  an- 
other threat.  It  would  prolong  the  term  of  his  submis- 
sion to  order  him  to  appear  before  the  Junta,  and  make 
it  an  apology  with  due  humility. 

"Now  for  Carillo  and  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y  Moncada." 
He  paused  a  moment  and  glanced  at  Chonita's  grating. 
He  had  the  proofs  of  her  brother's  treason  in  his  pocket ; 
no  one  but  himself  had  seen  them.  He  hesitated  the 
fraction  of  another  moment,  then  smiled  grimly.  "Oh, 
Helen!"  he  thought,  "the  same  old  story." 

"That  Carillo  is  guilty,"  he  said  aloud,  "is  proven  to 
us  beyond  doubt.  He  has  incited  rebellion  against  the 
government  in  behalf  of  Carlos  Carillo.  He  is  danger- 
ous to  the  peace  of  the  country.  Iturbi  y  Moncada  is 
young  and  heedless,  hardly  to  be  considered  seriously; 
furthermore,  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  proof  of  his  com- 
plicity. His  intimacy  with  Carillo  gives  him  the  appear- 
ance of  guilt.  It  would  be  well  to  frighten  him  a  little 
by  a  short  term  of  imprisonment.  He  is  restless  and 


250    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

easily  led;  a  lesson  in  time  may  save  his  honored  house 
from  disaster.  But  to  Carillo  no  quarter. "  He  rose 
and  stood  over  them.  ' '  The  best  thing  in  Machiavelli  's 
'Prince/  "  he  said,  "is  the  author's  advice  to  Caesar 
Borgia  to  exterminate  every  member  of  the  reigning 
house  of  a  conquered  country,  in  order  to  avoid  future 
revolutions  and  their  infinitely  greater  number  of  dead. 
Do  not  let  the  water  in  your  blood  whimper  for  mercy. 
You  are  not  here  to  protect  an  individual,  but  a  coun- 
try." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Alvarado. 

The  others  looked  at  the  young  man  who  had  merely 
given  them  the  practical  advice  of  statecraft  as  if  he 
had  opened  his  chest  and  displayed  the  lamp  of  wisdom 
burning.  His  freedom  from  excitement  in  all  ordeals 
which  animated  them  to  madness  had  long  ago  inspired 
the  suspicion  that  he  was  rather  more  than  human. 
They  uttered  not  a  protest.  Alvarado 's  one-eyed  sec- 
retary made  notes  of  their  approval;  and  the  Junta, 
after  another  friendly  smoke,  adjourned,  well  pleased 
with  itself. 

' '  Would  I  sacrifice  my  country  for  her  a  year  hence  ? ' ' 
thought  Estenega,  as  he  sauntered  home.  "But,  after 
all,  little  harm  is  done.  He  is  not  worth  killing,  and 
fright  and  discomfort  will  probably  cure  him." 


CHAPTER   IX 

CHONITA  and  Estenega  faced  each  other  among  the  Cas- 
tilian  roses  of  the  garden  behind  the  Governor's  house. 
The  duena  was  nodding  in  a  corner;  the  first-born  of 
the  Alvarados,  screaming  within,  absorbed  the  attention 
of  every  member  of  the  household,  from  the  frantic 
young  mother  to  the  practical  nurse. 

"My  brother  is  to  be  arrested,  you  say  ?" 

"Yes." 

' '  And  at  your  suggestion  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

"And  he  may  die?" 

"Possibly." 

"Nothing  would  have  been  done  if  it  had  not  been 
for  you  ? ' ' 

"Nothing." 

"God  of  my  life!    Mother  of  God!  how  I  hate  you!" 

"It  is  war,  then?" 

"I  would  kill  you  if  I  were  not  a  Catholic." 

"I  will  make  you  forget  that  you  are  a  Catholic." 

"You  have  made  me  remember  it  to  my  bitterest  sor- 
row. I  hate  you  so  mortally  that  I  cannot  go  to  con- 
fession: I  cannot  forgive." 

"I  hope  you  will  continue  to  hate  for  a  time.  Now 
listen  to  me.  You  have  several  reasons  for  hating  me. 
My  house  is  the  enemy  of  yours.  I  am,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  an  American;  you  can  consider  me  as 
such.  I  have  that  indifference  for  religious  superstition 
and  intolerance  for  religion's  thraldom  which  all  minds 
larger  of  circumference  than  a  napkin-ring  must  come 
to  in  time.  I  have  endangered  the  life  of  your  brother, 
and  I  have  opposed  and  shall  oppose  him  in  his  political 
aspirations;  he  has  my  unequivocal  contempt.  Neverthe- 

251 


252    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

less,  I  tell  you  here  that  I  should  marry  you  were  there 
five  hundred  reasons  for  your  hatred  of  me  instead  of 
a  paltry  five.  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  demonstrating  to 
you  that  there  is  a  force  in  the  universe  a  good  deal 
stronger  than  traditions,  religion,  or  even  family  ties." 

His  eyes  were  not  those  of  a  lover;  they  shone  like 
steel.  His  mouth  was  forbidding.  She  drew  back  from 
him  in  terror,  then  struck  her  hands  together  passion- 
ately. 

* '  I  marry  you ! ' '  she  cried.  ' l  An  Estenega !  A  rene- 
gade ?  May  God  cast  me  out  of  heaven  if  I  do !  There ! 
I  have  sworn !  I  have  sworn !  Do  you  think  a  Catholic 
would  break  that  vow  ?  I  swear  it  by  the  Church — and 
I  put  the  whole  Church  between  us ! ' ' 

"I  told  you  just  now  that  I  would  make  you  forget 
your  Church. ' '  He  caught  her  hand  and  held  it  firmly. 
"A  last  word,"  he  said.  "Your  brother's  life  is  safe;  I 
promise  you  that. ' ' 

' '  Let  me  go ! "  she  said.  ' '  Let  me  go !  I  fear  you. ' ' 
She  was  trembling;  his  warmth  and  magnetism  had 
sprung  to  her  shoulder. 

He  gave  her  back  her  hand.  ' '  Go ! "  he  said ; ' '  so  ends 
the  first  chapter." 


CHAPTER  X 

CASA  GRANDE,1  the  mansion  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moneadas  in 
Santa  Barbara,  stood  at  the  right  of  the  Presidio,  fac- 
ing the  channel.  A  mile  behind,  under  the  shadow  of 
the  gaunt  rocky  hills  curving  about  the  valley,  was  the 
long  white  Mission,  with  its  double  towers,  corridor  of 
many  arches,  and  sloping  roof  covered  with  red  tiles. 
Between  was  the  wild  valley,  where  cattle  grazed  among 
the  trees  and  the  massive  bowlders.  The  red-tiled  white 
adobe  houses  of  the  Presidio  and  of  the  little  town 
clustered  under  its  wing,  the  brown  mud  huts  of  the 
Indians,  were  grouped  in  the  foreground  of  the  deep 
valley. 

The  great  house  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moneadas,  erected  in 
the  first  years  of  the  century,  was  built  about  three  sides 
of  a  court,  measuring  one  hundred  feet  each  way.  Like 
most  of  the  adobes  of  its  time,  it  had  but  one  story.  A 
wide-pillared  corridor,  protected  by  a  sloping  roof, 
faced  the  court,  which  was  as  bare  and  hard  as  the  floor 
of  a  ballroom.  Behind  the  dwelling  were  the  manufac- 
tories and  huts  of  the  Indian  retainers.  Don  Guillermo 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  was  the  magnate  of  the  South.  His 
ranches  covered  four  hundred  thousand  acres ;  his  horses 
and  cattle  were  unnumbered.  His  Indians,  carpenters, 
coopers,  saddlers,  shoemakers,  weavers,  manufacturers 
of  household  staples,  supplied  the  garrison  and  town  with 
the  necessaries  of  life ;  he  also  did  a  large  trading  busi- 
ness in  hides  and  tallow.  Kumor  had  it  that  in  the 
wooden  tower  built  against  the  back  of  the  house  he 
kept  gold  by  the  bushel-basketful;  but  no  one  called 

1  In  writing  of  Casa  Grande  and  its  inmates,  no  reference  to  the 
distinguished  De  la  Guerra  family  of  Santa  Barbara  is  intended, 
beyond  the  description  of  their  house  and  state,  and  of  the  general 
characteristics  of  the  founder  of  the  family  fortunes  in  California. 

253 


254    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

him  miser,  for  he  gave  the  poor  of  the  town  all  they  ate 
and  wore,  and  kept  a  supply  of  drugs  for  their  sick. 
So  beloved  and  revered  was  he  that  when  earthquakes 
shook  the  town,  or  fires  threatened  it  from  the  hills,  the 
poor  ran  in  a  body  to  the  court-yard  of  Casa  Grande 
and  besought  his  protection.  They  never  passed  him 
without  saluting  to  the  ground,  nor  his  house  without 
bending  their  heads.  And  yet  they  feared  him,  for  he 
was  an  irascible  old  gentleman  at  times,  and  thumped 
unmercifully  when  in  a  temper.  Chonita,  alone,  could 
manage  him  always. 

When  I  returned  to  Santa  Barbara  with  Chonita 
after  her  visit  to  Monterey,  the  yellow  fruit  hung  in  the 
padres7  orchard,  the  grass  was  burning  brown,  sky  and 
water  wore  the  hard  blue  of  sapphire. 

The  afternoon  of  our  arrival,  Don  Guillermo,  Cho- 
nita, and  I  were  on  the  long  middle  corridor  of  the 
house:  in  Santa  Barbara  one  lived  in  the  air.  The  old 
don  sat  on  the  long  green  bench  by  the  sala  door.  His 
heavy  flabby  leathery  face  had  no  wrinkles  but  those 
which  curved  from  the  corners  of  the  mouth  to  the  chin. 
The  thin  upper  lip  was  habitually  pressed  hard  against 
the  small  protruding  under  one,  the  mouth  ending  in 
straight  lines  which  seemed  no  part  of  the  lips.  His 
small  slanting  eyes,  usually  stern,  could  snap  with  an- 
ger, as  they  did  to-day.  The  nose  rose  suddenly  from 
the  middle  of  his  face ;  it  might  have  been  applied  by  a 
child  sculpturing  with  putty ;  the  flat  bridge  was  crossed 
by  erratic  lines.  A  fringe  of  grizzled  hair  escaped  from 
the  black  silk  handkerchief  wound  as  tightly  as  a  tur- 
ban about  his  head.  He  wore  short  clothes  of  dark  brown 
cloth,  the  jacket  decorated  with  large  silver  buttons,  a 
red  damask  vest,  shoes  of  embroidered  deer-skin,  and  a 
cravat  of  fine  linen. 

Chonita,  in  a  white  gown,  a  pale-green  reboso  about 
her  shoulders,  her  arms  crossed,  her  head  thoughtfully 
bent  forward,  walked  slowly  up  and  down  before  him. 

"Holy  God!"  cried  the  old  man,  pounding  the  floor 
with  his  stick.  "That  they  have  dared  to  arrest  my 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  255 

son ! — the  son  of  Guillermo  Iturbi  y  Moncada !  That  Al- 
varado,  my  friend  and  thy  host,  should  have  permitted 
it!" 

"Do  not  blame  Alvarado,  my  father.  Kemember,  he 
must  listen  to  the  Departmental  Junta ;  and  this  is  their 
work.  Fool  that  I  am!"  she  added  to  herself,  "why  do 
I  not  tell  who  alone  is  to  blame  ?  But  I  need  no  one  to 
help  me  hate  him!" 

"Is  it  true  that  this  Estenega,  of  whom  I  hear  so 
much,  is  a  member  of  the  Junta  ? ' ' 

"It  may  be." 

"If  so,  it  is  he,  he  alone,  who  has  brought  dishonor 
upon  my  house.  Again  they  have  conquered ! ' ' 

"This  Estenega  I  met — and  who  was  compadre  with 
me  for  the  baby — lives  little  in  California,  my  father. 
If  it  be  he  who  is  a  member  of  the  Junta,  he  hardly  could 
rule  such  men  as  Alvarado,  Ximeno,  and  Castro.  I  saw 
no  other  Estenega. ' ' 

' '  True !  I  must  have  other  enemies  in  the  North ;  but 
I  had  not  known  of  it.  But  they  shall  learn  of  my 
power  in  the  South.  Don  Juan  de  la  Borrasca  went 
to-day  to  Los  Angeles  with  a  bushel  of  gold  to  bail  my 
son,  and  both  will  be  with  us  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
A  curse  upon  Carillo — but  I  will  speak  of  it  no  more. 
Tell  me,  my  daughter — God  of  my  soul,  but  I  am  glad 
to  have  thee  back ! — what  thoughtest  thou  of  this  son  of 
the  Estenegas?  Is  it  Ramon,  Esteban,  or  Diego?  I 
have  seen  none  of  them  since  they  were  little  ones.  I 
remember  Diego  well.  He  had  lightning  in  his  little 
tongue,  and  the  devil  in  his  brain.  I  liked  him,  although 
he  was  the  son  of  my  enemy;  and  if  he  had  been  an 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  I  should  have  made  a  great  man  of 
him.  Ay !  but  he  was  quick.  One  day  in  Monterey,  he 
got  under  my  feet  and  I  fell  flat,  much  imperiling  my 
dignity,  for  it  was  on  Alvarado  Street,  and  I  was  a 
member  of  the  Territorial  Deputation.  I  could  have 
beaten  him,  I  was  so  angry ;  but  he  scrambled  to  his  little 
feet,  and  helping  me  to  mine,  he  said,  while  dodging  my 
stick:  'Be  not  angry,  senor.  I  gave  my  promise  to  the 


256    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

earth  that  thou  shouldst  kiss  her,  for  all  the  world  has 
prayed  that  she  should  not  embrace  thee  for  ninety  years 
to  come/  What  could  I  do?  I  gave  him  a  cake.  Thou 
smilest,  my  daughter;  but  thou  wilt  not  commend  the 
enemy  of  thy  house,  no?  Ah,  well,  we  grow  less  bitter 
as  we  grow  old ;  and  although  I  hated  his  father  I  liked 
Diego.  Again,  I  remember,  I  was  in  Monterey,  and  he 
was  there;  his  father  and  I  were  both  members  of  the 
Deputation.  Caramba !  what  hot  words  passed  between 
us!  But  I  was  talking  of  Diego.  I  took  a  volume  of 
Shakespeare  from  him  one  day.  'Thou  art  too  young 
to  read  such  books/  I  said.  'A  baby  reading  what  the 
good  priests  allow  not  men  to  read!  I  have  not  read 
this  heretic  book  of  plays,  and  yet  thou  dost  lie  there 
on  thy  stomach  and  drink  in  its  wickedness.'  'It  is 
true,'  he  said,  and  how  his  steel  eyes  did  flash;  'but 
when  I  am  as  old  as  you,  senor,  my  stomach  will  be  flat 
and  my  head  will  be  big.  You  are  the  enemy  of  my 
father,  but,  have  you  noticed,  your  stomach  is  bigger 
than  his,  and  he  has  conquered  you  in  speech  and  in 
politics  more  times  than  you  have  found  vengeance  for. 
Ay! — your  ranches  have  richer  soil  and  many  more 
cattle,  but  he  has  a  library,  Don  Guillermo,  and  you  have 
not.'  I  spanked  him  then  and  there;  but  I  never  for- 
got what  he  said,  and  thou  hast  read  what  thou  listed.  I 
would  not  that  the  children  of  Alejandro  Estenega 
should  know  more  than  those  pf  Guillermo  Iturbi  y 
Moncada. ' ' 

"You  have  cause  to  be  proud  of  Reinaldo,  for  he 
sparkles  like  the  spray  of  the  fountain,  and  words  are  to 
him  like  a  shower  of  leaves  in  autumn.  And  yet,  and 
yet, ' '  she  added,  with  angry  candor, ' '  he  has  not  a  brain 
like  Diego  Estenega.  He  is  not  a  man,  but  a  devil." 

"A  good  brain  has  always  a  devil  at  the  wheel;  sharp 
eyes  have  sharper  nerves  behind ;  and  lightning  from  a 
big  soul  flashes  fear  into  a  little  one.  Diego  is  not  a 
devil — I  remember  once  I  had  a  headache,  and  he  bathed 
my  head,  and  the  water  ran  down  my  neck  and  gave  me 
a  cold  which  put  me  to  bed  for  a  week — but  he  is  the 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  257 

devil's  godson,  and  were  he  not  the  son  of  my  enemy  I 
should  love  him.  His  father  was  cruel  and  vicious — 
but  clever,  Holy  Mary !  Diego  has  his  brain ;  but  he  has, 
too,  the  kind  heart  and  gentle  manner — Ay !  Holy  God ! 
— Come,  come ;  here  are  the  horses.  Call  Prudencia,  and 
we  will  go  to  the  bark  and  see  what  the  good  captain  has 
brought  to  tempt  us." 

Four  horses  led  by  vaqueros  had  entered  the  court- 
yard. 

"Prudeneia!"  called  Chonita. 

A  door  opened,  and  a  girl  of  small  figure,  with  solemn 
dark  eyes  and  creamlike  skin,  her  hair  hanging  in  heavy 
braids  to  her  feet,  stepped  upon  the  corridor,  draping  a 
pink  reboso  about  her  head. 

"I  am  here,  my  cousin,"  she  said,  walking  with  all 
the  dignity  of  the  Spanish  woman,  despite  her  plump 
and  inconsiderable  person.  "You  are  rested,  Dona  Eus- 
taquia?  Do  we  go  to  the  ship,  my  uncle?  and  shall  we 
buy  this  afternoon?  God  of  my  life!  I  wonder  has  he 
a  high  comb  to  make  me  look  tall,  and  flesh-colored  stock- 
ings. My  own  are  gone  with  holes.  I  do  not  like 
white " 

"Hush  thy  chatter,"  said  her  uncle.  "How  can  I 
tell  what  the  captain  has  until  I  see?  Come,  my  chil- 
dren." 

We  sprang  to  our  saddles,  Don  Guillermo  mounted 
heavily,  and  we  cantered  to  the  beach,  followed  by  the 
.ox-cart  which  would  carry  the  fragile  cargo  home.  A 
boat  took  us  to  the  bark,  which  sat  motionless  on  the 
placid  channel.  The  captain  greeted  us  with  the  lively 
welcome  due  to  eager  and  frequent  purchasers. 

"Now,  curb  your  greed,"  cried  Don  Guillermo,  as  the 
girls  dropped  down  the  companion-way,  "for  you  have 
more  now  than  you  can  wear  in  five  years.  God  of  my 
soul!  if  a  bark  came  every  day  they  would  want  every 
shred  on  board.  My  daughter  could  tapestry  the  old. 
house  with  the  shawls  she  has." 

"When  I  reached  the  cabin  I  found  the  table  covered 
with  silks,  satins,  crepe  shawls,  combs,  articles  of  lacquer- 


258    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

ware,  jewels,  silk  stockings,  slippers,  spangled  tulle, 
handkerchiefs,  fans,  lace.  The  girls'  eyes  were  sparkling. 
Chonita  clapped  her  hands  and  ran  round  the  table, 
pressing  to  her  lips  the  beautiful  white  things  she 
quickly  segregated,  running  her  hand  eagerly  over  the 
little  slippers,  hanging  the  lace  about  her  shoulders, 
twisting  a  rope  of  garnets  in  her  yellow  hair. 

' '  Never  have  they  been  so  beautiful,  Eustaquia !  Is  it 
not  so,  my  Prudencia?"  she  cried  to  the  girl,  who  was 
curled  on  one  corner  of  the  table,  gloating  over  the  treas- 
ures she  knew  her  uncle's  generosity  would  make  her 
own.  "Look  how  these  little  diamonds  flash!  And  the 
embroidery  on  this  crepe! — a  dozen  eyes  went  out,  ay! 
yi !  This  satin  is  like  a  tile !  These  fans  were  made  in 
Spain !  This  is  as  big  as  a  windmill.  God  of  my  soul ! ' ' 
— she  threw  a  handful  of  yellow  sewing-silk  upon  a  piece 
of  white  satin;  "Ana  shall  embroider  this  gown — the 
golden  poppies  of  California  on  a  bank  of  mountain 
snow. ' '  She  suddenly  seized  a  case  of  topaz  and  a  piece 
of  scarlet  silk,  and  ran  over  to  me.  I  being  a  Monterena, 
etiquette  forbade  me  to  purchase  in  Santa  Barbara. 
"You  must  have  these,  my  Eustaquia.  They  will  be- 
come you  well.  And  would  you  like  any  of  my  white 
things  ?  Mary !  but  I  am  selfish.  Take  what  you  will, 
my  friend." 

To  refuse  would  be  to  spoil  her  pleasure  and  insult 
her  hospitality,  so  I  accepted  the  topaz — of  which  I  had 
six  sets  already — and  the  silk — whose  color  prevailed  in 
my  wardrobe — and  told  her  that  I  detested  white,  which 
did  not  suit  my  weather-dark  skin,  and  she  was  as  blind 
and  as  pleased  as  a  child. 

"But  come,  come!"  she  cried.  "My  father  is  not  so 
generous  when  he  has  to  wait  too  long. ' ' 

She  gathered  the  mass  of  stuff  in  her  arms  and  stag- 
gered up  the  companionway.  I  followed,  leaving  Pru- 
dencia  raking  the  trove  her  short  arms  would  not  hold. 

* '  Ay,  my  Chonita ! ' '  she  wailed,  * '  I  cannot  carry  that 
big  piece  of  pink  satin  and  that  vase.  And  I  have  only 
two  pairs  of  slippers  and  one  fan.  Ay,  Cho-n-i-i-ta,  look 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  259 

at  those  shawls !  Mother  of  God,  suppose  Valencia  Men- 
endez  comes " 

"Do  not  weep  on  the  silk  and  spoil  what  you  have/' 
called  down  Chonita  from  the  top  step.  "You  shall 
have  all  you  can  wear  for  a  year. ' ' 

She  reached  the  deck,  and  stood,  panting  and  imperi- 
ous, before  her  father.  "All!  All!  I  must  have  all!" 
she  cried.  "Never  have  they  been  so  fine,  so  rich." 

"Holy  Mary!"  shrieked  Don  Guillermo.  "Do  you 
think  I  am  made  of  doubloons  that  you  would  buy  a 
whole  ship 's  cargo  ?  You  shall  have  a  quarter ;  no  more 
— not  a  yard ! ' ' 

"I  shall  have  all!"  And  the  stately  daughter  of  the 
Iturbi  y  Moncadas  stamped  her  little  foot  upon  the 
deck. 

"A  third — not  a  yard  more.  And  diamonds!  Holy 
Heaven !  There  is  not  gold  enough  in  the  Californias  to 
feed  the  extravagance  of  the  Senorita  Dona  Chonita 
Iturbi  y  Moncada." 

She  managed  to  bend  her  body  in  spite  of  her  bur- 
den, her  eyes  flashing  saucily  above  the  mass  of  tulle 
which  covered  the  rest  of  her  face. 

"And  not  fine  raiment  enough  in  the  world  to  accord 
with  the  state  of  the  only  daughter  of  the  Senor  Don 
Guillermo  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the  delight  and  the  pride 
of  his  old  age.  Will  you  send  these  things  to  the  North, 
to  be  worn  by  an  Estenega  ?  Your  Chonita  will  cry  her 
eyes  so  red  that  she  will  be  known  as  the  ugly  witch  of 
Santa  Barbara,  and  Casa  Grande  will  be  like  a  tomb. ' ' 

1 '  Oh,  thou  spoilt  baby !  Thou  wilt  have  thy  way " 

At  this  moment  Prudencia  appeared.  Nothing  whatever 
could  be  seen  of  her  small  person  but  her  feet;  she- 
looked  like  an  exploded  bale  of  goods.  "What!  what!" 
gasped  Don  Guillermo.  ' '  Thou  little  rat !  Thou  wouldst 
make  a  Christmas  doll  of  thyself  with  satin  that  is  too 
heavy  for  thy  grandmother,  and  eke  out  thy  dumpy 
inches  with  a  train  ?  Oh,  Mother  of  God ! ' '  He  turned 
to  the  captain,  who  was  smoking  complacently,  assured 
of  the  issue.  '  *  I  will  let  them  carry  these  things  home ; 


260    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

but  to-morrow,  one-half,  at  least,  comes  back. ' '    And  he 
stamped  wrathfully  down  the  deck. 

"Send  the  rest,"  said  Chonita  to  the  captain,  "and 
you  shall  have  a  bag  of  gold  to-night. " 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  next  morning  Chonita,  clad  in  a  long  gown  of  white 
wool,  a  silver  cross  at  her  throat,  her  hair  arranged  like 
a  coronet,  sat  in  a  large  chair  in  the  dispensary.  Her 
father  stood  beside  a  table,  parceling  drugs.  The  sick- 
poor  of  Santa  Barbara  passed  them  in  a  long  line. 

The  Doomswoman  exercised  her  power  to  heal,  the 
birthright  of  the  twin. 

"I  wonder  if  I  can,"  she  said  to  me  in  English,  lay- 
ing her  white  fingers  on  a  knotted  arm,  "or  if  it  is  my 
father's  medicines.  I  have  no  right  to  question  this 
beautiful  faith  of  my  country,  but  I  really  don't  see 
how  I  do  it.  Still,  I  suppose  it  is  like  many  things  in 
our  religion,  not  for  mere  human  beings  to  understand. 
This  pleases  my  vanity,  at  least.  I  wonder  if  I  shall 
have  cause  to  exercise  my  other  endowment." 

"To  curse?" 

"Yes;  I  think  I  might  do  that  with  something  more 
of  sincerity." 

The  men,  women,  and  children,  native  Californians 
and  Indians,  scrubbed  for  the  occasion,  filed  slowly  past 
her,  and  she  touched  all  kindly  and  bade  them  be  well. 
They  regarded  her  with  adoring  eyes  and  bent  almost 
to  the  ground. 

"Perhaps  they  will  help  me  out  of  purgatory,"  she 
said ;  ' t  and  it  is  something  to  be  on  a  pedestal ;  I  should 
not  like  to  come  down.  It  is  a  cheap  victory,  but  so  are 
most  of  the  victories  that  the  world  knows  of." 

When  she  had  touched  nearly  a  hundred,  they  gath- 
ered about  her,  and  she  spoke  a  few  words  to  them. 

"My  friends,  go,  and  say,  'I  shall  be  well/  Does  not 
the  Bible  say  that  faith  shall  make  ye  whole  ?  Cling  to 
your  faith!  Believe!  Believe!  Else  will  you  feel  as  if 

261 


262    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  world  crumbled  beneath  your  feet!  And  there  is 
nothing,  nothing  to  take  its  place.  What  folly,  what  pre- 
sumption, to  suggest  that  anything  can — a  mortal  pas- 
sion  "  She  stopped  suddenly,  and  continued  coldly: 

' '  Go,  my  friends ;  words  do  not  come  easily  to  me  to-day. 
Go,  and  God  grant  that  you  may  be  well  and  happy. " 


CHAPTER   XII 

WE  sat  in  the  sala  the  next  evening,  awaiting  the  return 
of  the  prodigal  and  his  deliverer.  The  night  was  cool, 
and  the  doors  were  closed;  coals  burned  in  a  roof-tile. 
The  room,  unlike  most  Californian  salas,  boasted  a  car- 
pet, and  the  furniture  was  covered  with  green  rep,  in- 
stead of  the  usual  black  horse-hair. 

Don  Guillermo  patted  the  table  gently  with  his  open 
palm  accompanying  the  tinkle  of  Prudencia  's  guitar  and 
her  light  monotonous  voice.  She  sat  on  the  edge  of  a 
chair,  her  solemn  eyes  fixed  on  a  painting  of  Reinaldo 
which  hung  on  the  wall.  Dona  Trinidad  was  sewing  as 
usual,  and  dressed  as  simply  as  if  she  looked  to  her 
daughter  to  maintain  the  state  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas. 
Above  a  black  silk  skirt  she  wore  a  black  shawl,  one  end 
thrown  over  her  shoulder.  About  her  head  was  a  close 
black  silk  turban,  concealing,  with  the  exception  of  two 
soft  gray  locks  on  either  side  of  her  face,  what  little 
hair  she  still  may  have  possessed.  Her  white  face  was 
delicately  cut ;  the  lines  of  time  indicated  spiritual  sweet- 
ness rather  than  strength. 

Chonita  roved  between  the  sala  and  an  adjoining  room 
where  four  Indian  girls  embroidered  the  yellow  poppies 
on  the  white  satin.  I  was  reading  one  of  her  books — 
the  "Vicar  of  Wakefield." 

"Will  you  be  glad  to  see  Reinaldo,  my  Prudencia?" 
asked  Don  Guillermo,  as  the  song  finished. 

"Ay !"  and  the  girl  blushed. 

' '  Thou  wouldst  make  a  good  wife  for  Reinaldo,  and  it 
is  well  that  he  marry.  It  is  true  that  he  has  a  gay  spirit 
and  loves  company,  but  you  shall  live  here  in  this  house, 
and  if  he  is  not  a  devoted  husband  he  shall  have  no 
money  to  spend.  It  is  time  he  became  a  married  man 

263 


264    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

and  learned  that  life  was  not  made  for  dancing  and  flirt- 
ing; then,  too,  would  his  restless  spirit  get  him  into 
fewer  broils.  I  have  heard  him  speak  twice  of  no  other 
women,  save  Valencia  Menendez,  and  I  would  not  have 
her  for  a  daughter.  I  think  he  loves  thee." 

"Surely!"  said  Dona  Trinidad. 

"That  is  love,  I  suppose,"  said  Chonita,  leaning  back 
in  her  chair  and  forgetting  the  poppies.  "With  her  a 
placid  contented  hope,  with  him  a  calm  preference  for 
a  malleable  woman.  If  he  left  her  for  another  she  would 
cry  for  a  week,  then  serenely  marry  whom  my  father 
bade  her,  and  forget  Reinaldo  in  the  donas  of  the  bride- 
groom. The  birds  do  almost  as  well. ' ' 

Don  Guillermo  smiled  indulgently.  Prudencia  did  not 
know  whether  to  cry  or  not.  Dona  Trinidad,  who  never 
thought  of  replying  to  her  daughter,  said: 

1 '  Chonita  mia,  Liseta  and  Tomaso  wish  to  marry,  and 
your  father  will  give  them  the  little  house  by  the  creek. ' ' 

"Yes,  mamacita?"  said  Chonita  absently.  She  felt 
no  interest  in  the  loves  of  the  Indians. 

"We  have  a  new  Father  in  the  Mission,"  continued 
her  mother,  remembering  that  she  had  not  acquainted 
her  daughter  with  all  the  important  events  of  her  ab- 
sence. "And  Don  Rafael  Guzman's  son  was  drafted. 
That  was  a  judgment  for  not  marrying  when  his  father 
bade  him.  For  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  Reinaldo 
marry.  I  would  not  have  him  go  to  the  war  to  be  killed. ' ' 

1 1  No, ' '  said  Don  Guillermo.  ' '  He  must  be  a  diputado 
to  Mexico.  I  would  not  lose  my  only  son  in  battle.  I 
am  ambitious  for  him ;  and  so  art  thou,  Chonita,  for  thy 
brother.  Is  it  not  so  ? " 

"Yes.  I  have  it  in  me  to  stab  the  heart  of  any  man 
who  rolls  a  stone  in  his  way. ' ' 

"My  daughter,"  said  Don  Guillermo,  with  the  accent 
of  duty  rather  than  of  reproof,  "thou  must  love  with- 
out vengeance.  Sustain  thy  brother,  but  harm  not  his 
enemy.  I  would  not  have  thee  hate  even  an  Estenega, 
although  I  cannot  love  them  myself.  But  we  will  not 
talk  of  the  Estenegas.  Do  you  realize  that  our  Reinaldo 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  265 

will  be  with  us  this  night?  We  must  all  go  to  confes- 
sion to-morrow — your  mother  and  myself,  Eustaquia, 
Reinaldo,  Prudencia,  and  yourself." 

Chonita's  face  became  rigid.  "I  cannot  go  to  con- 
fession/' she  said.  "It  may  be  months  before  I  can; 
perhaps  never. " 

"What?" 

"Can  one  go  to  confession  with  a  hating  and  an  un- 
forgiving heart !  Ay !  that  I  never  had  gone  to  Monterey ! 
At  least  I  had  the  consolation  of  my  religion  before. 
Now  I  fight  the  darkness  by  myself.  Do  not  ask  me 
questions,  for  I  shall  not  answer  them.  But  taunt  me 
no  more  with  confession. ' ' 

Even  Don  Guillermo  was  dumb.  In  all  the  twenty- 
four  years  of  her  life  she  never  had  betrayed  violence  of 
spirit  before ;  even  her  hatred  of  the  Estenegas  had  been 
a  religion  rather  than  a  personal  feeling.  It  was  the 
first  glimpse  of  her  soul  that  she  had  accorded  them,  and 
they  were  aghast.  What — what  had  happened  to  this 
proud,  reserved,  careless  daughter  of  the  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cadas  ? 

Dona  Trinidad  drew  down  her  mouth.  Prudencia  be- 
gan to  cry.  Then,  for  the  moment,  Chonita  was  forgot- 
ten. Two  horses  galloped  into  the  courtyard. 

"  Reinaldo !" 

The  door  had  but  an  inside  knob;  Don  Guillermo 
threw  it  open  as  a  young  man  sprang  up  the  three  steps 
of  the  corridor,  followed  by  a  little  man  who  carefully 
picked  his  way. 

"Yes,  I  am  here,  my  father,  my  mother,  my  sister, 
my  Prudencia!  Ay,  Eustaquia,  thou  too."  And  the 
pride  of  the  house  kissed  each  in  turn,  his  dark  eyes 
wandering  absently  about  the  room.  He  was  a  dashing 
caballero,  and  as  handsome  as  any  ever  born  in  the 
Californias.  The  dust  of  travel  had  been  removed — at  a 
saloon — from  his  blue  velvet  gold-embroidered  serape, 
which  he  immediately  flung  on  the  floor.  His  short 
jacket  and  trousers  were  also  of  dark-blue  velvet,  the 
former  decorated  with  buttons  of  silver  filigree,  the  latter 


266    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

laced  with  silver  cord  over  spotless  linen.  The  front  of 
his  shirt  was  covered  with  costly  lace.  His  long  botas 
were  of  soft  yellow  leather  stamped  with  designs  in 
silver  and  gartered  with  blue  ribbon.  The  clanking 
spurs  were  of  silver  inlaid  with  gold.  The  sash,  knotted 
gracefully  over  his  hip,  was  of  white  silk.  His  curled 
black  hair  was  tied  with  a  blue  ribbon,  and  clung,  clus- 
tering and  damp,  about  a  low  brow.  He  bore  a  strange 
resemblance  to  Chonita,  in  spite  of  the  difference  of 
color,  but  his  eyes  were  merely  large  and  brilliant ;  they 
had  no  stars  in  their  shallows.  His  mouth  was  covered 
by  a  heavy  silken  mustache,  and  his  profile  was  bold. 
At  first  glance  he  impressed  one  as  a  perfect  type  of 
manly  strength,  aggressively  decided  of  character.  It 
was  only  when  he  cast  aside  the  wide  sombrero — which, 
when  worn  a  little  back,  most  becomingly  framed  his 
face — that  one  saw  the  narrow  insignificant  head. 

For  a  time  there  was  no  conversation,  only  a  series  of 
exclamations.  Chonita  alone  was  calm,  smiling  a  loving 
welcome.  In  the  excitement  of  the  first  moments  little 
notice  was  taken  of  the  devoted  bailer,  who  ardently  re- 
garded Chonita. 

Don  Juan  de  la  Borrasca  was  flouting  his  sixties, 
fighting  for  his  youth  as  a  parent  fights  for  its  young. 
His  withered  little  face  wore  the  complacent  smile  of 
vanity;  his  arched  brows  furnished  him  with  a  super- 
cilious expression  which  atoned  for  his  lack  of  inches; 
he  was  barely  five  feet  two.  His  large  curved  nose  was 
also  a  compensating  gift  from  the  god-mother  of  dig- 
nity, and  he  carried  himself  so  erectly  that  he  looked 
like  a  toy  general.  His  small  black  eyes  were  bright  as 
glass  beads,  and  his  hair  was  ribboned  as  bravely  as 
Reinaldo's.  He  was  clad  in  silk  attire — red  silk  em- 
broidered with  butterflies.  His  little  hands  were  laden 
with  rings;  carbuncles  glowed  in  the  lace  of  his  shirt. 
He  was  moderately  wealthy,  but  a  staunch  retainer  of 
the  house  of  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the  devoted  slave  of 
Chonita. 

She  was  the  first  to  remember  him,  and  held  out  her 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  267 

hand  for  him  to  kiss.  "You  have  the  gratitude  of  my 
heart,  dear  friend/'  she  said,  as  the  little  dandy  curved 
over  it.  "I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  bringing 
my  brother  back  to  me." 

"Ay,  Dona  Chonita,  thanks  be  to  God  and  Mary  that 
I  was  enabled  so  to  do.  Had  my  mission  proved  unsuc- 
cessful, I  should  have  committed  a  crime  and  gone  to 
prison  with  him.  Never  would  I  have  returned  here. 
Dueno  adorado,  ever  at  thy  feet." 

Chonita  smiled  kindly,  but  she  was  listening  to  her 
brother,  who  was  now  expatiating  upon  his  wrongs  to  a 
sympathetic  audience. 

"Holy  Heaven!"  he  exclaimed,  striding  up  and  down 
the  room,  ' '  that  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the  descendant  of 
twenty  generations,  should  be  put  to  shame,  to  disgrace 
and  humiliation,  by  being  cast  into  a  common  prison! 
That  an  ardent  patriot,  a  loyal  subject  of  Mexico,  should 
be  accused  of  conspiring  against  the  judgment  of  an 
Alvarado!  Carillo  was  my  friend,  and  had  his  cause 
been  a  just  one,  I  had  gone  with  him  to  the  gates  of 
death  or  the  chair  of  state.  But  could  I — I — conspire 
against  a  wise  and  great  man  like  Juan  Bautista  Alva- 
rado? No!  not  even  if  Carillo  had  asked  me  so  to  do. 
But,  by  the  stars  of  heaven,  he  did  not.  I  had  been  but 
the  guest  of  his  bounty  for  a  month ;  the  suspicious  ras- 
cals who  spied  upon  us,  the  poor  brains  who  compose  the 
Departmental  Junta,  took  it  for  granted  that  an  Iturbi 
y  Moncada  could  not  be  blind  to  Carillo 's  plots  and 
plans  and  intrigues,  that,  having  been  the  intimate  of 
his  house  and  table,  I  must  perforce  aid  and  abet  what- 
ever schemes  engrossed  him.  Ay,  more  often  than  fre- 
quently did  a  dark  surmise  cross  my  mind,  but  I  brushed 
it  aside  as  one  does  the  prompting  of  evil  desires.  I 
would  not  believe  that  a  Carillo  would  plot,  conspire, 
and  rise  again,  after  the  terrible  lesson  he  had  received 
in  1838.  Alvarado  holds  California  to  his  heart ;  Castro, 
the  Mars  of  the  nineteenth  century,  hovers  menacingly 
on  the  horizon.  Who,  who,  in  sober  reason,  would  defy 
that  brace  of  frowning  gods  ? ' ' 


268    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

His  eloquence  was  cut  short  by  respiratory  interfer- 
ence, but  he  continued  to  stride  from  one  end  of  the 
room  to  the  other,  his  face  flushed  with  excitement.  Pru- 
dencia's  large  eyes  followed  him,  admiration  paralyzing 
her  tongue.  Dona  Trinidad  smiled  upward  with  the 
self-approval  of  the  modest  barn-yard  lady  who  has 
raised  a  magnificent  bantam.  Don  Guillermo  applauded 
loudly.  Only  Chonita  turned  away,  the  truth  smiting 
her  for  the  first  time. 

"Words!  words !"  she  thought  bitterly.  "He  would 
have  said  all  that  in  two  sentences.  Is  it  true — ay,  triste 
de  mi! — what  he  said  of  my  brother?  I  hate  him,  yet 
his  brain  has  cut  mine  and  wedged  there.  My  head 
bows  to  him,  even  while  all  the  Iturbi  y  Moncada  in  me 
arises  to  curse  him.  But  my  brother!  my  brother!  he 
is  so  much  younger.  And  if  he  had  had  the  same  ad- 
vantages— those  years  in  Mexico  and  America  and  Eu- 
rope— would  he  not  know  as  much  as  Diego  Estenega? 
Oh,  surely!  surely!" 

"My  son,"  Don  Guillermo  was  saying,  "God  be 
thanked  that  you  did  not  merit  your  imprisonment.  I 
should  have  beaten  you  with  my  cane,  and  locked  you 
in  your  room  for  a  month,  had  you  disgraced  my  name. 
But,  as  it  happily  is,  you  must  have  compensation  for 
unjust  treatment.  Prudencia,  give  me  your  hand." 

The  girl  rose,  trembling  and  blushing,  but  crossed  the 
room  with  stately  step  and  stood  beside  her  uncle.  Don 
Guillermo  took  her  hand  and  placed  it  in  Reinaldo's. 
"Thou  shalt  have  her,  my  son,"  he  said.  "I  have  di- 
vined thy  wishes." 

Reinaldo  kissed  the  small  fingers  fluttering  in  his, 
making  a  great  flourish.  He  was  quite  ready  to  marry, 
and  his  pliant  little  cousin  suited  him  better  than  any 
one  he  knew.  "Day-star  of  my  eyes!"  he  exclaimed, 
"consolation  of  my  soul!  Memories  of  injustice,  dis- 
comfort, and  sadness  fall  into  the  waters  of  oblivion 
rolling  at  thy  feet.  I  see  neither  past  nor  future.  The 
rose-hued  curtain  of  youth  and  hope  falls  behind  and 
before  us." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  269 

"Yes,  yes,"  assented  Prudencia  delightedly.  "My 
Reinaldo !  my  Reinaldo ! ' ' 

"We  congratulated  them  severally  and  collectively,  and, 
when  the  ceremony  was  over,  Reinaldo  cried,  with  even 
more  enthusiasm  than  he  had  yet  shown,  "My  mother, 
for  the  love  of  Mary  give  me  something  to  eat — tamales, 
salad,  chicken,  dulces.  Don  Juan  and  I  are  as  empty  as 
hides. " 

Dona  Trinidad  smiled  with  the  pride  of  the  Califor- 
nian  housewife.  "It  is  ready,  my  son.  Come  to  the 
dining-room,  no?" 

She  led  the  way,  followed  by  the  family,  Reinaldo  and 
Prudencia  lingering.  As  the  others  crossed  the  thresh- 
old he  drew  her  back. 

"A  lump  of  tallow,  do  you  hear,  my  Prudencia?"  he 
whispered  hurriedly.  "Put  it  under  the  green  bench. 
I  must  have  it  to-night. ' ' 

"Ay!  Reinaldo " 

"Do  not  refuse,  my  Prudencia,  if  you  love  me.  Will 
you  do  it?" 

"Surely,  my  Reinaldo." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  family  retired  early  in  its  brief  seasons  of  reclu- 
sion,  and  at  ten  o  'clock  Casa  Grande  was  dark  and  quiet. 
Reinaldo  opened  his  door  and  listened  cautiously,  then 
stepped  softly  to  the  green  bench  and  felt  beneath  for 
the  lump  of  tallow.  It  was  there.  He  returned  to  his 
room  and  swung  himself  from  his  window  into  the  yard, 
about  which  were  irregularly  disposed  the  manufactories 
of  the  Indians,  a  high  wall  protecting  the  small ' '  town. ' ' 
All  was  quiet  here,  and  had  been  for  hours.  He  tiptoed 
to  the  wooden  tower  and  mounted  a  ladder,  lifting  it 
from  story  to  story  until  he  reached  the  attic  under  the 
pointed  roof.  Then  he  lit  a  candle,  and,  removing  a 
board  from  the  floor,  peered  down  into  the  room  whose 
door  was  always  so  securely  locked.  The  stars  shone 
through  the  uncurtained  windows,  and  were  no  yellower 
than  the  gold  coins  heaped  on  the  large  table  and  over- 
flowing the  baskets.  Eeinaldo  took  a  long  pole  from  a 
corner,  and  applied  to  one  end  a  piece  of  the  soft  tallow. 
He  lowered  the  pole  and  pressed  it  firmly  into  the  pile 
of  gold  on  the  table.  The  pole  was  withdrawn,  and  this 
ingenious  fisherman  removed  a  large  gold  fish  from  the 
bait.  He  fished  patiently  for  an  hour,  then  filled  a  bag 
he  had  brought  for  the  purpose,  and  returned  as  he  had 
come.  Not  to  his  bed,  however.  Once  more  he  opened 
his  door  and  stole  forth,  this  time  to  the  town,  to  hold 
high  revel  round  the  gaming-table,  where  he  was  wel- 
comed hilariously  by  his  boon  companions. 

A  wild  fandango  in  a  neighboring  booth  provided  re- 
laxation for  the  gamblers.  In  an  hour  or  two  Reinaldo 
found  his  way  to  this  well-known  haven.  Black-eyed 
dancing-girls  in  short  skirts  of  tawdry  satin  trimmed 
with  cotton  lace,  mock  jewels  on  their  bare  necks  and 

270 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  271 

in  their  coarse  black  hair,  flew  about  the  room  and 
screamed  with  delight  as  Reinaldo  flung  gold  pieces 
among  them.  The  excitement  continued  in  all  its  vari- 
ations until  morning.  Men  bet  and  lost  all  the  gold  they 
had  brought  with  them,  then  sold  horse,  serape,  and 
sombrero  to  the  men  who  neither  drank  nor  gambled, 
but  came  prepared  for  close  and  profitable  bargains. 
Reinaldo  lost  his  purloins,  won  them  again,  stood  upon 
the  table  and  spoke  with  torrential  eloquence  of  his 
wrongs  and  virtues,  kissed  all  the  girls,  and  when  by 
easy  and  rapid  stages  he  had  succeeded  in  converting 
himself  into  a  skin  full  of  aguardiente,  he  was  carried 
home  and  put  to  bed  by  such  of  his  companions  as  were 
sober  enough  to  make  no  noise. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

CHONITA,  clad  in  a  black  gown,  walked  slowly  up  and 
down  the  corridor  of  Casa  Grande.  The  rain  should 
have  dripped  from  the  eaves,  beaten  with  heavy  monot- 
ony upon  the  hard  clay  of  the  court-yard,  to  accompany 
her  mood,  but  it  did  not.  The  sky  was  blue  without 
fleck  of  cloud,  the  sun  like  the  open  mouth  of  a  furnace 
of  boiling  gold,  the  air  as  warm  and  sweet  and  drowsy 
as  if  it  never  had  come  in  shock  with  human  care.  Pru- 
dencia  sat  on  the  green  bench,  drawing  threads  in  a  fine 
linen  camisa,  her  small  face  rosy  with  contentment. 

"Why  do  you  wear  that  black  gown  this  beautiful 
morning  ? ' '  she  demanded  suddenly.  ' '  And  why  do  you 
walk  when  you  can  sit  down" 

"I  had  a  dream  last  night.  Do  you  believe  in 
dreams?"  She  had  as  much  regard  for  her  cousin's 
opinion  as  for  the  twittering  of  a  bird,  but  she  felt  the 
necessity  of  speech  at  times,  and  at  least  this  child  never 
remembered  what  she  said. 

"Surely,  my  Chonita.  Did  not  I  dream  that  the  good 
captain  would  bring  pink  silk  stockings?  and  are  they 
not  my  own  this  minute?"  And  she  thrust  a  diminu- 
tive foot  from  beneath  the  hem  of  her  gown,  regarding 
it  with  admiration.  ' '  And  did  not  I  dream  that  Tomaso 
and  Liseta  would  marry?  What  was  your  dream,  my 
Chonita?" 

"I  do  not  know  what  the  first  part  was;  something 
very  sad.  All  I  remember  is  the  roar  of  the  ocean  and 
another  roar  like  the  wind  through  high  trees.  Then  a 
moment  that  shook  and  frightened  me,  but  sweeter  than 
anything  I  know  of,  so  I  cannot  define  it.  Then  a  swift 
awful  tragedy — I  cannot  recall  the  details  of  that, 
either.  The  whole  dream  was  like  a  black  mass  of  clouds, 

272 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  273 

cut  now  and  again  by  a  scythe  of  lightning.  But  then, 
like  a  vision  within  a  dream,  I  seemed  to  stand  there 
and  see  myself,  clad  in  a  black  gown,  walking  up  and 
down  this  corridor,  or  one  like  it,  up  and  down,  up  and 
down,  never  resting,  never  daring  to  rest  lest  I  should 
hear  the  ceaseless  clatter  of  a  lonely  fugitive's  horse. 
When  I  awoke  I  was  as  cold  as  if  I  had  received  the  first 
shock  of  the  surf.  I  cannot  say  why  I  put  on  this  black 
gown  to-day.  I  make  no  haste  to  feel  as  I  did  when  I 
wore  it  in  that  dream — the  desolation — the  endlessness; 
but  I  did." 

"That  was  a  strange  dream,  my  Chonita,"  said  Pru- 
dencia,  threading  her  needle.  "You  must  have  eaten 
too  many  dulces  for  supper,  did  you  ? ' ' 

"No,"  said  Chonita  shortly,  "I  did  not." 

She  continued  her  aimless  walk,  wondering  at  her  de- 
pression of  spirits.  All  her  life  she  had  felt  a  certain 
mental  loneliness,  but  a  healthy  body  rarely  harbors  an 
invalid  soul,  and  she  had  only  to  spring  on  a  horse  and 
gallop  over  the  hills  to  feel  as  happy  as  a  young  animal. 
Moreover,  the  world — all  the  world  she  knew — was  at 
her  feet;  nor  had  she  ever  known  the  novelty  of  an 
ungratified  wish.  Once  in  a  while  her  father  arose  in 
an  obdurate  mood,  but  she  had  only  to  coax,  or  threaten 
tears — never  had  she  been  seen  to  shed  one — or  stamp 
her  foot,  to  bring  that  doting  parent  to  terms.  It  is 
true  that  she  had  had  her  cankered  moments,  an  abrupt, 
impatient  desire  for  something  that  was  not  all  light  and 
pleasure  and  gold  and  adulation;  but,  being  a  girl  of 
will  and  sense,  she  had  turned  resolutely  from  the  troub- 
lous demands  of  her  deeper  soul,  regarding  them  as  coals 
fallen  from  a  mind  that  burned  too  hotly  at  times. 

This  morning,  however,  she  let  the  black  waters  rise, 
not  so  much  because  they  were  stronger  than  her  will, 
as  because  she  wished  to  understand  what  was  the  matter 
with  her.  She  was  filled  with  a  dull  dislike  of  every  one 
she  had  ever  known,  of  every  condition  which  had  sur- 
rounded her  from  birth.  She  felt  a  deep  disgust  of  placid 
contentment,  of  the  mere  enjoyment  of  sunshine  and  air. 


274    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

She  recalled  drearily  the  clock-like  revolutions  of  the 
year  which  brought  bull-fights,  races,  rodeos,  church 
celebrations ;  her  mother 's  anecdotes  of  the  Indians ;  her 
father 's  manifold  interests,  ever  the  theme  of  his  tongue ; 
Reinaldo's  grandiloquent  accounts  of  his  exploits  and 
intentions;  Prudencia's  infinite  nothings.  She  hated 
the  balls  of  which  she  was  La  Favorita,  the  everlasting 
serenades,  the  whole  life  of  pleasure  which  made  that 
period  of  California  the  one  Arcadia  the  modern  world 
has  known.  Some  time  during  the  past  few  weeks  the 
girl  had  crossed  her  hands  over  her  breast  and  lain  down 
in  her  eternal  tomb.  The  woman  had  arisen  and  come 
forth,  blinded  as  yet  by  the  light,  her  hands  thrust  out 
gropingly. 

"It  is  that  man,"  she  told  herself,  with  angry  frank- 
ness. "I  had  not  talked  with  him  ten  minutes  before  I 
felt  as  I  do  when  the  scene  changes  suddenly  in  one  of 
Shakespeare's  plays — as  if  I  had  been  flung  like  a  me- 
teor into  a  new  world.  I  felt  the  necessity  for  mental 
alertness  for  the  first  time  in  my  life ;  always,  before,  I 
had  striven  to  conceal  what  I  knew.  The  natural  con- 
sequences, of  course,  were  first  the  desire  to  feel  that 
stimulation  again  and  again,  then  to  realize  the  little- 
ness of  everything  but  mental  companionship.  I  have 
read  that  people  who  begin  with  hate  sometimes  end  with 
love ;  and  if  I  were  a  book  woman  I  suppose  I  should  in 
time  love  this  man  whom  I  now  so  hate,  even  while  I 
admire.  But  I  am  no  lump  of  wax  in  the  hands  of  a 
writer  of  dreams.  I  am  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  and 
he  is  Diego  Estenega.  I  could  no  more  love  him  than 
could  the  equator  kiss  the  poles.  Only,  much  as  I  hate 
him,  I  wish  I  could  see  him  again.  He  knows  so  much 
more  than  any  one  else.  I  should  like  to  talk  to  him,  to 
ask  him  many  things.  He  has  sworn  to  marry  me." 
Her  lip  curled  scornfully,  but  a  sudden  glow  rushed  over 
her.  '  *  Had  he  not  been  an  Estenega — yes,  I  could  have 
loved  him — that  calm  clear-sighted  love  that  is  born  of 
regard ;  not  a  whirlwind  and  a  collapse,  like  most  love. 
I  should  like  to  sit  with  my  hands  in  my  lap  and  hear 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  275 

him  talk  for  ever.  And  we  cannot  even  be  friends.  It 
is  a  pity." 

The  girl's  mind  was  like  a  splendid  castle  only  one 
wing  of  which  had  ever  been  illuminated.  By  the  light 
of  the  books  she  had  read,  and  of  acute  observation  in 
a  little  sphere,  she  strove  to  penetrate  the  thick  walls 
and  carry  the  torch  into  broader  halls  and  lofty  towers. 
But  superstition,  prejudice,  bitter  pride,  inexperience 
of  life,  conjoined  their  shoulders  and  barred  the  way. 
As  Diego  Estenega  had  discerned,  under  the  thick  Old- 
World  shell  of  inherited  impressions  was  a  plastic  being 
of  all  womanly  possibilities.  But  so  little  did  she  know 
of  herself,  so  futile  was  her  struggle  in  the  dark,  with 
only  sudden  flashes  to  blind  her  and  distort  all  she  saw, 
that  with  nothing  to  shape  that  moulding  kernel  it  would 
shrink  and  wither,  and  in  a  few  years  she  would  be  but 
a  polished  shell,  perfect  of  proportion,  hollow  at  the  core. 

But  if  strong  intellectual  juices  sank  into  that  sweet 
pliant  kernel,  developing  it  into  the  perfected  form  of 
woman,  establishing  the  current  between  the  brain  and 
the  passions,  finishing  the  work,  or  leaving  it  half  com- 
pleted, as  circumstance  vouchsafed — what  then? 

"Ay,  seiior!"  exclaimed  Prudencia,  as  two  people, 
mounted  on  horses  glistening  with  silver,  galloped  into 
the  court-yard.  ' '  Valencia  and  Adan ! ' ' 

I  came  out  of  the  sala  at  that  moment  and  watched 
them  alight;  Adan,  that  faithful  dog-like  adorer,  of 
whose  kind  every  beautiful  woman  has  a  half  dozen  or 
more,  Valencia,  the  bitter-hearted  rival  of  Chonita.  She 
was  a  tall  dazzling  creature,  with  flaming  black  eyes, 
large  and  heavily  lashed,  and  a  figure  so  lithe  that  she 
seemed  to  sweep  downward  from  her  horse  rather  than 
spring  to  the  ground.  She  had  the  dark  rich  skin  of 
Mexico — another  source  of  envy  and  hatred,  for  the 
Iturbi  y  Moncadas,  like  most  of  the  aristocracy  of  the 
country,  were  of  pure  Castilian  blood  and  as  white  as 
porcelain  in  consequence — and  a  red  full  mouth. 

1 '  Welcome,  my  Chonita ! ' '  she  cried.  ' '  Valgame  Dios ! 
but  I  am  glad  to  see  you  back ! ' '  She  kissed  Chonita  ef - 


276    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

fusively.  "Ay,  my  poor  brother !"  she  whispered  hur- 
riedly. ' '  Tell  him  that  you  are  glad  to  see  him. ' '  And 
then  she  welcomed  me  with  words  that  fell  as  softly  as 
rose-leaves  in  a  zephyr,  and  patted  Prudencia's  head. 

Chonita,  with  a  faint  flush  on  her  cheek,  gave  Adan 
her  hand  to  kiss.  She  had  given  this  faithful  suitor 
little  encouragement,  but  his  unswerving  and  honest  de- 
votion had  wrung  from  her  a  sort  of  careless  affection ; 
and  she  told  me  that  first  night  in  Monterey  that  if  she 
ever  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  she  thought  she  should 
select  Adan;  he  was  more  tolerable  than  any  one  she 
knew.  It  is  doubtful  if  he  had  crossed  her  mind  since ; 
and  now,  with  all  a  woman's  unreason,  she  conceived  a 
sudden  and  violent  dislike  for  him  because  she  had 
treated  him  too  kindly  in  her  thoughts.  I  liked  Adan 
Menendez;  there  was  something  manly  and  sure  about 
him — the  latter  a  restful  if  not  a  fascinating  quality. 
And  I  liked  his  appearance.  His  clear  brown  eyes  had 
a  kind  direct  regard.  His  chin  was  round,  and  his 
profile  a  little  thick ;  but  the  gray  hair  brushed  up  and 
away  from  his  low  forehead  gave  dignity  to  his  face. 
His  figure  was  pervaded  with  the  indolence  of  the  Cali- 
fornian. 

"At  your  feet,  senorita  mia,"  he  murmured,  his  voice 
trembling. 

"It  gives  me  pleasure  to  see  you  again,  Adan.  Have 
you  been  well  and  happy  since  I  left  ? ' ' 

It  was  a  careless  question,  and  he  looked  at  her  re- 
proachfully. 

"I  have  been  well,  Chonita/'  he  said. 

At  this  moment  our  attention  was  startled  by  a  sharp 
exclamation  from  Valencia.  Prudencia  had  announced 
her  engagement.  Valencia  had  refused  many  suitors, 
but  she  had  intended  to  marry  Eeinaldo  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada.  Not  that  she  loved  him ;  he  was  the  most  brilliant 
match  in  three  hundred  leagues.  Within  the  last  year  he 
had  bent  the  knee  to  the  famous  coquette;  but  she  had 
lost  her  temper  one  day — or,  rather,  it  had  found  her — 
and  after  a  violent  quarrel  he  had  galloped  away,  and 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  277 

gone  almost  immediately  to  Los  Angeles,  there  to  remain 
until  Don  Juan  went  after  him  with  a  bushel  of  gold. 
She  controlled  herself  in  a  moment,  and  swayed  her 
graceful  body  over  Prudencia,  kissing  her  lightly  on  the 
cheek. 

"You  baby,  to  marry !"  she  said  softly.  "You  took 
away  my  breath.  You  look  no  more  than  fourteen  years. 
I  had  forgotten  the  grand  merienda  of  your  eighteenth 
birthday. ' ' 

Prudencia 's  little  bosom  swelled  with  pride  at  the 
discomfiture  of  the  haughty  beauty  who  had  rarely  re- 
membered to  notice  her.  Prudencia  was  not  poor;  she 
owned  a  goodly  rancho;  but  it  was  an  hacienda  to  the 
state  of  a  Menendez. 

"You  will  be  one  of  my  bridesmaids,  no,  Dona  Valen- 
cia ? ' '  she  asked. 

"That  will  be  the  proud  day  of  my  life,"  said  Valen- 
cia graciously. 

1 '  We  have  a  ball  to-night, ' '  said  Chonita.  * '  You  would 
have  had  word  to-day.  You  will  stay  now,  no?  and  not 
ride  those  five  leagues  twice  again  ?  I  will  send  for  your 
gown. ' ' 

"Truly,  I  will  stay,  my  Chonita.  And  you  will  tell 
me  all  about  your  visit  to  Monterey,  no?" 

"All?     Ay!  surely!" 

Adan  kissed  both  Prudencia 's  little  hands  in  earnest 
congratulation.  As  he  did  so,  the  door  of  Reinaldo's 
room  opened,  and  the  heir  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas 
stepped  forth,  gorgeous  in  black  silk  embroidered  with 
gold.  He  had  slept  off  the  effects  of  the  night 's  debauch, 
and  cold  water  had  restored  his  freshness.  He  kissed 
Prudencia 's  hand,  his  own  to  us,  then  bent  over  Valen- 
cia's with  exaggerated  homage. 

"At  thy  feet,  O  loveliest  of  California's  daughters! 
In  the  immensity  of  thought,  going  to  and  coming  from 
Los  Angeles,  my  imagination  has  spread  its  wings  like 
an  eagle.  Thou  hast  been  a  beautiful  day-dream,  posing 
or  reclining,  dancing  or  swaying  with  grace  superlative 
on  thy  restive  steed.  I  have  not  greeted  my  good  friend 


278    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Adan.  I  can  but  look  and  look  and  keep  on  looking  at 
his  incomparable  sister,  the  rose  of  roses,  the  queen  of 
queens." 

* '  Thy  tongue  carols  as  easily  as  a  lark  *s, ' '  said  Valen- 
cia, with  but  half-concealed  bitterness.  "Thou  couldst 
sing  all  day — and  the  next  forget. ' ' 

' '  I  forget  nothing,  beautiful  senorita — neither  the  fair 
days  of,  spring  nor  the  ugly  storms  of  winter.  And  I 
love  the  sunshine  and  flee  from  the  tempest.  Adan, 

brother  of  my  heart,  welcome  as  ever  to  Casa  Grande 

Ay !  here  is  my  father.  He  looks  like  Sancho  Panza. ' ' 

Don  Guillermo's  sturdy  little  mustang  bore  him  into 
the  court-yard,  shaking  his  stout  master  not  a  little. 
The  old  gentleman's  black  silk  handkerchief  had  fallen 
to  his  shoulders;  his  face  was  red,  but  covered  with  a 
broad  smile. 

"I  have  letters  from  Monterey,"  he  said,  as  Rein- 
aldo  and  Adan  ran  down  the  steps  to  help  him  alight. 
"Alvarado  goes  by  sea  to  Los  Angeles  this  month,  but 
returns  by  land  in  the  next,  and  will  honor  us  with  a 
visit  of  a  week.  I  shall  write  to  him  to  arrive  in  time 
for  the  wedding.  Several  members  of  the  Junta  come 
with  him — and  of  their  number  is  Diego  Estenega." 

"Who?'7  cried  Reinaldo.  "An  Estenega?  You  will 
not  ask  him  to  cross  the  threshold  of  Casa  Grande  ? ' ' 

"I  always  liked  Diego,"  said  the  old  man,  somewhat 
confusedly.  "And  he  is  the  friend  of  Alvarado.  How 
can  I  avoid  to  ask  him,  when  he  is  of  the  party  ? ' ' 

1 '  Let  him  come, ' '  cried  Eeinaldo.  1 1  God  of  my  life  !— 
I  am  glad  that  he  comes,  this  lord  of  redwood  forests 
and  fog-bound  cliffs.  It  is  well  that  he  shall  see  the  splen- 
dor of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas — our  pageants  and  our  gay 
diversions,  our  cavalcades  of  beauty  and  elegance  under 
a  canopy  of  smiling  blue.  Glad  I  am  that  he  comes. 
Once  for  all  shall  he  learn  that,  although  his  accursed 
family  has  beaten  ours  in  war  and  politics,  he  can  never 
hope  to  rival  our  pomp  and  state. ' ' 

"Ah!"  said  Valencia  to  Chonita,  "I  have  heard  of 
this  Diego  Estenega.  I,  too,  am  glad  that  he  comes.  I 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  279 

have  the  advantage  of  you  this  time,  my  friend.  You 
and  he  must  hate  each  other,  and  for  once  I  am  without 
a  rival.  He  shall  be  my  slave. "  And  she  tossed  her 
spirited  head. 

"He  shall  not!"  cried  Chonita,  then  checked  herself 
abruptly,  the  blood  rushing  to  her  hair.  "I  hate  him 
so, ' '  she  continued  hurriedly  to  the  astonished  Valencia, 
"that  I  would  see  no  woman  show  him  favor.  You  will 
not  like  him,  Valencia.  He  is  not  handsome  at  all — no 
color  in  his  skin,  not  even  white,  and  eyes  in  the  back  of 
his  head.  No  mustache,  no  curls,  and  a  mouth  that  looks 
— oh,  that  mouth,  so  grim,  so  hard ! — no,  it  is  not  to  be 
described.  No  one  could;  it  makes  you  hate  him.  And 
he  has  no  respect  for  women ;  he  thinks  they  were  made 
to  please  the  eye,  no  more.  I  do  not  think  he  would 
look  ten  seconds  at  an  ugly  woman.  You  will  not  like 
him,  Valencia ;  it  would  be  impossible. ' ' 

"Ay,  but  I  think  I  shall.  What  you  have  said  makes 
me  wish  to  see  him  the  more.  God  of  my  life!  but  he 
must  be  different  from  the  men  of  the  South.  And  I 
shall  like  that." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Chonita  coldly.  "At  least,  he  will 
not  break  your  heart,  for  no  woman  could  love  him. 
But  come  and  take  your  siesta,  no  ?  and  refresh  yourself 
for  the  dance.  I  will  send  you  a  cup  of  chocolate. "  And, 
bending  her  head  to  Adan,  she  swept  down  the  corridor, 
followed  by  Valencia. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THOSE  were  two  busy  months  before  Prudencia's  wed- 
ding. Twenty  girls,  sharply  watched  and  directed  by 
Dona  Trinidad  and  the  sometime  mistress  of  Casa 
Grande,  worked  upon  the  marriage  wardrobe.  Pru- 
dencia  would  have  no  use  for  more  house-linen;  but 
enough  fine  linen  was  made  into  underclothes  to  last 
her  a  lifetime.  Five  keen-eyed  girls  did  nothing  but 
draw  the  threads  for  deshalados,  and  so  elaborate  was 
the  openwork  that  the  wonder  was  the  bride  did  not 
have  bands  and  stripes  of  rheumatism.  Others  fash- 
ioned crepes  and  flowered  silks  and  heavy  satins  into 
gowns,  with  long  pointed  waists  and  full  flowing  skirts, 
some  with  sleeves  of  lace,  and  high  to  the  base  of  the 
throat,  others  cut  to  display  the  plump  whiteness  of  the 
owner.  Twelve  rebosos  were  made  for  her ;  Dona  Trini- 
dad gave  her  one  of  her  finest  mantillas;  Chonita,  the 
white  satin  embroidered  with  poppies,  for  which  she 
had  conceived  a  capricious  dislike.  She  also  invited  Pru- 
dencia  to  take  what  she  pleased  from  her  wardrobe ;  and 
Prudencia,  who  was  nothing  if  not  practical,  helped 
herself  to  three  gowns  which  had  been  made  for  Chonita 
at  great  expense  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  four  shawls  of 
Chinese  crepe,  a  roll  of  pineapple  silk,  an  American  hat. 
The  house  until  within  two  weeks  of  the  wedding  was 
full  of  visitors — neighbors  whose  ranches  lay  ten  leagues 
away  or  nearer,  and  the  people  of  the  town ;  all  of  them 
come  to  offer  congratulations,  chatter  on  the  corridor  by 
day  and  dance  in  the  sala  by  night.  The  court  was 
never  free  of  prancing  horses  pawing  the  ground  for 
eighteen  hoars  at  a  time  under  their  heavy  saddles. 
Dona  Trinidad's  cooking-girls  were  as  thick  in  the 
kitchen  as  ants  on  an  anthill.  The  good  things  of  Casa 

280 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  281 

Grande  were  as  famous  as  its  hospitality  and  not  the 
least  of  the  attractions  to  the  merry  visitors.  When  we 
did  not  dance  at  home  we  danced  at  the  ranches  of  the 
neighbors  or  at  the  Presidio.  During  the  last  two  weeks, 
however,  every  one  went  home  to  rest  and  prepare  for 
the  festivities  to  succeed  the  wedding,  and  the  old  house 
was  as  quiet  as  a  canon  in  the  mountains. 

Chonita  took  a  lively  concern  in  the  preparations  at 
first,  but  her  interest  soon  evaporated,  and  she  spent 
more  and  more  time  in  the  little  library  adjoining  her 
bedroom.  She  did  less  reading  than  thinking,  however. 
Once  she  came  to  me  and  tried  for  fifteen  minutes  to 
draw  from  me  something  in  Estenega's  dispraise;  and 
when  I  finally  admitted  that  he  had  a  fault  or  two  I 
thought  she  would  scalp  me.  Still,  at  this  time  she  was 
hardly  more  than  fascinated,  interested,  tantalized  by  a 
mind  she  could  appreciate  but  not  understand.  If  they 
had  never  met  again  he  gradually  would  have  moved 
backward  to  the  horizon  of  her  memory,  growing  dim 
and  more  dim,  hovered  in  a  cloud-bank  for  a  while,  then 
disappeared  into  that  limbo  which  must  exist  some- 
where for  discarded  impressions,  and  all  would  have 
been  well. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THE  evening  before  the  wedding  Prudencia  covered  her 
demure  self  with  black  gown  and  reboso,  and  accom- 
panied by  Chonita  went  up  to  the  Mission  to  make  her 
last  maiden  confession.  Chonita  did  not  go  with  her 
into  the  church,  but  paced  up  and  down  the  long  cor- 
ridor of  the  wing,  gazing  absently  upon  the  deep  wild 
valley  and  peaceful  ocean,  seeing  little  beyond  the  im- 
ages in  her  own  mind. 

That  morning  Alvarado  and  several  members  of  the 
Junta  had  arrived,  but  not  Estenega.  He  had  come  as 
far  as  the  Rancho  Temblor,  Alvarado  explained,  and 
there,  meeting  some  old  friends,  had  decided  to  remain 
over  night  and  accompany  them  the  next  day  to  the 
ceremony.  As  Chonita  had  stood  on  the  corridor  and 
watched  the  approach  of  the  Governor's  cavalcade,  her 
heart  had  beaten  violently,  and  she  had  angrily  ac- 
knowledged that  her  nervousness  was  due  to  the  fact 
that  she  was  about  to  meet  Diego  Estenega  again.  When 
she  discovered  that  he  was  not  of  the  party,  she  turned 
to  me  with  pique,  resentment,  and  disappointment  in 
her  face. 

"Even  if  I  cannot  ever  like  him/'  she  said,  "at  least 
I  might  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him  talk.  There 
is  no  harm  in  that,  even  if  he  is  an  Estenega,  a  renegade, 
and  the  enemy  of  my  brother.  I  can  hate  him  with  my 
heart  and  like  him  with  my  mind.  And  he  must  have 
cared  little  to  see  us  again,  that  he  could  linger  for 
another  day." 

"I  am  mad  to  see  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  Valen- 
cia, her  red  lips  pouting.  "Why  did  he,  of  all  others, 
tarry?" 

282 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  283 

"He  is  fickle  and  perverse, "  I  said;  "the  most  un- 
certain man  I  know." 

"Perhaps  he  thought  to  make  us  wish  to  see  him  the 
more,"  suggested  Valencia. 

"No,"  I  said;  "he  has  no  ridiculous  vanities." 

Chonita  wandered  back  and  forth  behind  the  arches, 
waiting  for  Prudencia's  long  confession  of  sinless  errors 
to  conclude. 

"What  has  a  baby  like  that  to  confess?"  she  thought 
impatiently.  "She  could  not  sin  if  she  tried.  She 
knows  nothing  of  the  dark  storms  of  rage  and  hatred 
and  revenge  which  can  gather  in  the  breasts  of  stronger 
and  weaker  beings.  I  never  knew,  either,  until  lately; 
but  the  storm  is  so  black  I  dare  not  face  it  and  carry  it 
to  the  priest.  I  am  a  sort  of  human  chaos,  and  I  wish  I 
were  dead.  I  thought  to  forget  him,  and  I  see  him  as 
plainly  as  on  that  morning  when  he  told  me  that  it  was 
he  who  would  send  my  brother  to  prison — 

She  stopped  short  with  a  little  cry.  Diego  Estenega 
stood  before  the  Mission  in  the  broad  swath  of  moon- 
light. She  had  heard  a  horse  gallop  up  the  valley,  but 
had  paid  no  attention  to  the  familiar  sound.  Estenega 
had  appeared  as  suddenly  as  if  he  had  risen  from  the 
earth. 

"It  is  I,  senorita."  He  ascended  the  Mission  steps. 
"Do  not  fear.  May  I  kiss  your  hand?" 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  but  withdrew  it  hurriedly. 
Of  the  tremendous  mystery  of  sex  she  knew  almost  noth- 
ing. Girls  were  brought  up  in  such  ignorance  in  those 
days  that  many  a  bride  ran  home  to  her  mother  on  her 
wedding  night;  and  books  teach  innocence  little.  But 
she  was  fully  conscious  that  there  was  something  in  the 
touch  of  Estenega 's  lips  and  hand  that  startled  while  it 
thrilled  and  enthralled. 

"I  thought  you  stayed  with  the  Ortegas  to-night?" 
she  said.  Oh,  blessed  conventions ! 

"I  did — for  a  few  hours.  Then  I  wanted  to  see  you, 
and  I  left  them  and  came  on.  At  Casa  Grande  I  found 


284    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

no  one  but  Eustaquia;  every  one  else  had  gone  to  the 
gardens;  and  she  told  me  that  you  were  here/' 

Chonita's  heart  was  beating  as  fast  as  it  had  beaten 
that  morning;  even  her  hands  shook  a  little.  A  glad 
wave  of  warmth  rushed  over  her.  She  turned  to  him 
impetuously.  "Tell  me!"  she  exclaimed.  "Why  do  I 
feel  like  this  for  you?  I  hate  you;  you  know  that. 
There  are  many  reasons — five ;  you  counted  them.  And 
yet  I  feel  excited,  almost  glad,  at  your  coming.  This 
morning  I  was  disappointed  when  you  did  not  come. 
Tell  me — you  know  everything,  and  I  so  little — why 
is  it?" 

Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes  terrified  and  ap- 
pealing. She  looked  very  lovely  and  natural.  Probably 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  Estenega  resisted  a  tempta- 
tion. He  passionately  wished  to  take  her  in  his  arms 
and  tell  her  the  truth.  But  he  was  too  clever  a  man; 
there  was  too  much  at  stake;  if  he  frightened  her  now 
he  might  never  even  see  her  again.  Moreover,  she  ap- 
pealed to  his  chivalry.  And  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him 
that  so  sweet  a  heart  would  be  warped  in  its  waking  if 
passion  bewildered  and  controlled  her  first. 

' '  Dona  Chonita, ' '  he  said, ' '  like  all  women — all  beauti- 
ful and  spoiled  women — you  demand  variety.  I  happen 
to  be  made  of  harder  stuff  than  your  caballeros,  and  you 
have  not  seen  me  for  two  months;  that  is  all." 

"And  if  I  saw  you  every  day  for  two  months  would 
I  no  longer  care  whether  you  came  or  went?" 

"Undoubtedly." 

"  Is  it  sweet  or  terrible  to  feel  this  way  ? ' '  thought  the 
girl.  "Would  I  regret  if  he  no  longer  made  me  trem- 
ble, or  would  I  go  on  my  knees  and  thank  the  Blessed 
Virgin ? ' '  Aloud  she  said :  "It  was  strange  for  me  to 
ask  you  such  questions ;  but  it  is  as  if  you  had  something 
in  your  mind  separate  from  yourself,  and  that  it  would 
tell  me,  and  you  could  not  prevent  its  being  truthful.  I 
do  not  believe  in  you;  you  look  as  if  nothing  were  worth 
the  while  to  lie  or  tell  the  truth  about  j  but  your  mind 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  285 

is  quite  different.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  knows  all 
things,  that  it  is  as  cold  and  clear  as  ice." 

'  *  What  a  whimsical  creature  you  are !  My  mind,  like 
myself — I  feel  as  if  I  were  twins — is  at  your  service. 
Forget  that  I  am  Diego  Estenega.  Regard  me  as  a  sort 
of  archive  of  impressions  which  may  amuse  or  serve 
you  as  the  poorest  of  your  books  do.  That  they  are 
catalogued  under  the  general  title  of  Diego  Estenega  is 
a  mere  detail ;  an  accident,  for  that  matter ;  they  might 
be  pigeon-holed  in  the  skull  of  a  Bandini  or  a  Pico.  I 
happened  to  be  the  magnet,  that  is  all." 

"If  I  could  forget  that  you  were  an  Estenega — just 
for  a  week,  while  you  are  here,"  she  said  wistfully. 

"You  are  a  woman  of  will  and  imagination — also  of 
variety.  Make  an  experiment;  it  will  interest  you.  Of 
course,  there  will  be  times  when  you  will  be  bitterly 
conscious  that  I  am  the  enemy  of  your  house ;  it  would 
be  idle  to  expect  otherwise;  but  when  we  happen  to  be 
apart  from  disturbing  influences,  let  us  agree  to  forget 
that  we  are  anything  but  two  human  beings,  deeply 
congenial.  As  for  what  I  said  in  the  garden  at  Mon- 
terey, the  last  time  we  spoke  together — I  shall  not 
bother  you." 

uYou  no  longer  care?"  she  exclaimed. 

* '  I  did  not  say  that.  'I  said  I  should  not  bother  you—- 
recognizing your  hostility  and  your  reasons.  Be  faith- 
ful to  your  traditions,  my  beautiful  Doomswoman.  No 
man  is  worth  the  sacrifice  of  those  dear  old  comrades. 
What  presumption  for  a  man  to  require  you  to  abandon 
the  cause  of  your  house,  give  up  your  brother,  sacrifice 
your  religious  principles;  one,  too,  who  would  open  his 
doors  to  the  Americans  you  hate !  No  man  is  worth  such 
a  sacrifice  as  that." 

'  *  No, ' '  she  said ;  "  no  man. ' '  But  she  said  it  without 
enthusiasm. 

"A  man  is  but  one;  traditions  are  fivefold,  and  multi- 
plied by  duty.  Poor  grain  of  sand — what  can  he  give, 
comparable  to  the  cold  serene  happiness  of  fidelity  to 
self?  Love  is  sweet — horribly  sweet — but  so  common  a 


286    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

madness  can  give  but  a  tithe  of  the  satisfaction  of  duty 
to  pure  and  lofty  ideals. ' ' 

"I  do  not  believe  that."  The  woman  in  her  arose  in 
resentment.  "A  life  of  duty  must  be  empty,  cold,  and 
wrong.  It  was  not  that  we  were  made  for." 

'  *  Let  us  talk  little  of  love,  senorita ;  it  is  a  dangerous 
subject." 

"But  it  interests  me,  and  I  should  like  to  under- 
stand it." 

"I  will  explain  the  subject  to  you  fully,  some  day.  I 
have  a  fancy  to  do  that  on  my  own  territory — up  in  the 
red-woods ' ' 

* '  Here  is  Prudencia. ' ' 

A  small  black  figure  swept  down  the  steps  of  the 
church.  She  bowed  low  to  Estenega  when  he  was  pre- 
sented, but  mutely.  The  Indian  servants  brought  the 
horses  to  the  corridor,  and  they  rode  down  the  valley  to 
Casa  Grande. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  guests  of  Casa  Grande — there  were  many  besides 
Alvarado  and  his  party ;  the  house  was  full  again — were 
gathered  with  the  family  on  the  corridor,  as  Estenega, 
Chonita,  and  Prudencia  dismounted  at  the  extreme  end 
of  the  court-yard.  As  Reinaldo  saw  the  enemy  of  his 
house  approach  he  ran  down  the  step,  advanced  rapidly, 
and  bowed  low  before  him. 

"Welcome,  Senor  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  he  said — 
"welcome  to  Casa  Grande.  The  house  is  yours.  Burn 
it  if  you  will.  The  servants  are  yours ;  I  myself  am  your 
servant.  This  is  the  supreme  moment  of  my  life,  su- 
premer  even  than  when  I  learned  of  my  acquittal  of  the 
foul  charges  laid  to  my  door  by  scheming  and  jealous 
enemies.  It  is  long — alas! — since  an  Estenega  and  an 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  have  met  in  the  court-yard  of  the  one 
or  the  other.  Let  this  moment  be  the  seal  of  peace,  the 
death  of  feud,  the  unification  of  the  North  and  the 
South. " 

"You  have  the  hospitality  of  the  true  Calif ornian,  Don 
Reinaldo.  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  accept  it." 

"Would,  then,  your  pleasure  could  equal  mine!" 

"Curse  him!"  he  added  to  Chonita,  as  Estenega  went 
up  the  steps  to  greet  Don  Guillenno  and  Dona  Trinidad, 
"I  have  just  received  positive  information  that  it  was 
he  who  kept  me  from  distinguishing  myself  and  my 
house  in  the  Departmental  Junta,  he  who  cast  me  in  a 
dungeon.  It  poisons  my  happiness  to  sleep  under  the 
same  roof  with  him. ' ' 

"Ay!"  exclaimed  Chonita.  "Why  can  you  not  be 
more  sincere,  my  brother?  Hospitality  did  not  compel 
you  to  say  so  much  to  your  enemy.  Could  you  not  have 

287 


288    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

spoken  a  few  simple  words  like  himself,  and  not  black- 
ened your  soul  ? ' ' 

' '  My  sister !  you  never  spoke  to  me  so  harshly  before. 
And  on  my  marriage  eve!" 

"Forgive  me,  my  most  beloved  brother.  You  know  I 
love  you.  But  it  grieves  me  to  think  that  even  hospital- 
ity could  make  you  false. ' ' 

When  they  ascended  the  steps,  not  a  woman  was  to  be 
seen ;  all  had  followed  Prudencia  to  her  chamber  to  see 
the  donas  of  the  groom,  which  had  arrived  that  day  from 
Mexico.  Chonita  tarried  long  enough  to  see  that  her 
father  had  forgotten  the  family  grievance  in  his  revived 
susceptibility  to  Estenega,  then  went  to  Prudencia 's 
room.  There  women,  young  and  old,  crowded  each  other, 
jabbering  like  monkeys.  The  little  iron  bed,  the  chairs 
and  tables,  every  article  of  furniture,  in  fact,  but  the 
altar  in  the  corner,  displayed  to  advantage  exquisite 
materials  for  gowns,  a  mass  of  elaborate  underclothing, 
a  white  lace  mantilla  to  be  worn  at  the  bridal,  lace 
flounces  fine  and  deep,  crepe  shawls,  sashes  from  Rome, 
silk  stockings  by  the  dozen.  On  a  large  table  were  the 
more  delicate  and  valuable  gifts;  a  rosary  of  topaz,  the 
cross  a  fine  piece  of  carving ;  a  jeweled  comb ;  a  string  of 
pearls ;  diamond  hoops  for  the  ears ;  a  large  pin  painted 
with  a  head  of  Guadalupe,  the  patron  saint  of  Cali- 
fornia; and  several  fragile  fans.  Quite  apart,  on  a 
little  table,  was  the  crown  and  pride  of  the  donas — six 
white  cobweb-like  camisas,  embroidered,  hemstitched,  and 
deshaladoed.  Did  any  Californian  bridegroom  forget 
that  dainty  item  he  would  be  repudiated  on  his  wedding- 
eve. 

"God  of  my  life!"  murmured  Valencia,  "he  has  taste 
as  well  as  gold.  And  all  to  go  on  that  round  white 
doll!" 

There  was  little  envy  among  the  other  girls.  Their 
eyes  sparkled  with  good-nature  as  they  kissed  Prudencia 
and  congratulated  her.  The  older  women  patted  the 
things  approvingly  j  and,  between  religion,  a  donas  to 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  289 

satisfy  an  angel,  and  prospective  bliss,  Prudeneia  was 
the  happiest  little  bride-elect  in  all  the  Californias. 

11  Never  were  such  camisas!"  cried  one  of  the  girls. 
"Ay!  he  will  make  a  good  husband.  That  sign  never 
fails." 

"You  must  wear  long  long  trains  now,  my  Pruden- 
eia, and  be  as  stately  as  Chonita. ' ' 

"Ay!"  exclaimed  Prudeneia.  Did  not  every  gown 
already  made  have  a  train  longer  than  herself? 

"You  need  never  wear  a  mended  stocking  with  all 
these  to  last  for  years,"  said  another;  never  had  silk 
stockings  been  brought  to  the  Californias  in  sufficient 
plenty  for  the  dancing  feet  of  its  daughters. 

"I  shall  always  mend  my  stockings,"  said  Pruden- 
eia, "I  myself." 

"Yes,"  said  one  of  the  older  women,  "you  will  be  a 
good  wife  and  waste  nothing." 

Valencia  laid  her  arm  about  Chonita 's  waist.  "I 
wish  to  meet  Don  Diego  Estenega, ' '  she  said.  * '  Will  you 
not  present  him  to  me  ?  " 

"You  are  very  forward,"  said  Chonita  coldly.  "Can 
you  not  wait  until  he  comes  your  way  ? ' ' 

"No,  my  Chonita;  I  wish  to  meet  him  now.  My 
curiosity  devours  me." 

"Very  well;  come  with  me  and  you  shall  know  him. 
Will  you  come,  too,  Eustaquia  ?  There  are  only  men  on 
the  corridor. ' ' 

We  found  Diego  and  Don  Guillermo  talking  politics 
in  a  corner,  both  deeply  interested.  Estenega  rose  at 
once. 

"Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  Chonita,  "I  would  pre- 
sent you  to  the  Senorita  Dona  Valencia  Menendez,  of 
the  Rancho  del  Fuego." 

Esteuega  bowed.  ' '  I  have  heard  much  of  Dona  Valen- 
cia, and  am  delighted  to  meet  her. ' ' 

Valencia  was  nonplussed  for  a  moment;  he  had  not 
given  her  the  customary  salutation,  and  she  could  hardly 
murmur  the  customary  reply.  She  merely  smiled,  and 


290    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

looked  so  handsome  that  she  could  afford  to  dispense 
with  words. 

"A  superb  type,"  said  Estenega  to  me,  as  Don  Guil- 
lermo  claimed  the  beauty 's  attention  for  a  moment.  '  *  But 
only  a  type;  nothing  distinctive." 

Nevertheless,  ten  minutes  later,  Valencia,  with  the 
maneuvering  of  the  general  of  many  a  battle,  had  guided 
him  to  a  seat  in  the  sala  under  Dona  Trinidad's  sleepy 
wing,  and  her  eyes  were  flashing  the  language  of  Spain 
to  his.  I  saw  Chonita  watch  them  for  a  moment,  in  min- 
gled surprise  and  doubt,  then  saw  a  sudden  look  of  fear 
spring  to  her  eyes  as  she  turned  hastily  and  walked 
away. 

Again  I  shared  her  room — the  thirty  rooms  and  many 
in  the  out-buildings  were  overflowing  with  guests  who 
had  come  a  hundred  leagues  or  less — and  after  we  had 
been  in  bed  a  half  hour,  Chonita,  overcome  by  the  in- 
sinuating power  of  that  time-honored  confessional,  told 
me  of  her  meeting  with  Estenega  at  the  Mission.  I  made 
few  comments,  but  sighed;  I  knew  him  so  well.  "It 
will  be  strange  even  to  seem  to  be  friends  with  him," 
she  added,  "to  hate  him  in  my  heart  and  yet  delight  to 
talk  with  him,  and  perhaps  to  regret  when  he  leaves. ' ' 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  still  hate  him?" 

She  sat  up  in  bed.  The  solid  wooden  shutters  were 
closed,  but  over  the  door  was  a  small  square  aperture, 
and  through  this  a  stray  moonbeam  drifted  and  fell  on 
her.  Her  hair  was  tumbling  about  her  shoulders,  and 
she  looked  decidedly  less  statuesque  than  usual. 

"Eustaquia,"  she  said  solemnly,  "I  believe  I  can  go 
to  confession." 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

AT  sunrise  the  next  morning  the  guests  of  Casa  Grande 
were  horsed  and  ready  to  start  for  the  Mission.  The 
valley  between  the  house  and  the  Mission  was  alive  with 
the  immediate  rancheros  and  their  families,  and  the 
people  of  the  town,  aristocrats  and  populace. 

At  Estenega's  suggestion,  I  climbed  with  him  to  the 
attic  of  the  tower,  much  to  the  detriment  of  my  frock. 
But  I  made  no  complaint  after  Diego  had  removed  the 
dusty  little  windows  on  both  sides,  and  I  looked  through 
the  apertures  at  the  charming  scene.  The  rising  sun 
gave  added  fire  to  the  bright  red  tiles  of  the  long  white 
Mission,  threw  a  pink  glow  on  its  noble  arches  and  tow- 
ers, and  on  the  white  massive  aqueduct.  The  bells  were 
crashing  their  welcome  to  the  bride.  The  deep  valley, 
wooded  and  rocky,  was  pervaded  by  the  soft  glow  of 
the  awakening,  but  was  as  lively  as  mid-day.  There 
were  horses  of  every  color  the  Lord  has  decreed  that 
horses  shall  wear.  The  saddles  upon  them  were  of  em- 
bossed leather  or  rich  embroidered  silk  heavily  mounted 
with  silver.  Above  all  this  gorgeousness  sat  the  cabal- 
leros  and  the  donas,  in  velvet  and  silk,  gold  lace  and 
Spanish,  jewels  and  mantillas,  and  silver-weighted  som- 
breros; a  confused  mass  of  color  and  motion;  a  living 
picture,  shifting  like  a  kaleidoscope.  Nor  was  this  all; 
brown,  soberly  dressed  old  men  and  women  in  satin- 
padded  carretas — heavy  ox-carts  on  wheels  made  from 
solid  sections  of  trees,  and  driven  by  a  ganan  seated  on 
one  of  the  animals;  the  populace  in  cheap  finery,  some 
on  foot,  others  astride  old  mules  or  broken-winded 
horses,  two  or  three  on  one  lame  old  hack;  all  chatter- 
ing, shouting,  eager,  interested,  impatiently  awaiting  the 
bride  and  a  week  of  pleasure. 

291 


292    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

In  the  court-yard  and  plaza  before  it,  the  guests  of 
the  house  were  mounted  on  a  caponera  of  palominas — 
horses  peculiar  to  the  country:  beautiful  creatures, 
golden-bronze  and  burnished,  with  luxuriant  manes  and 
tails,  which  waved  and  shone  like  the  sparkling  silver  of 
a  waterfall.  A  number  were  riderless,  awaiting  the 
pleasure  of  the  bridal  party.  One  alone  was  white  as  a 
Californian  fog.  He  lifted  his  head  and  pranced  as  if 
aware  of  his  proud  distinction.  The  aquera  and  saddle 
which  embellished  his  graceful  beauty  were  of  pink  silk, 
worked  with  delicate  leaves  in  gold  and  silver  thread. 
The  stirrups,  cut  from  blocks  of  wood,  were  elaborately 
carved.  The  glistening  reins  were  made  from  the  long 
crystal  hairs  of  his  mane,  and  linked  with  silver.  A 
strip  of  pink  silk,  joined  at  the  ends  with  a  huge  rosette, 
was  hung  from  the  high  silver  pommel  of  the  saddle, 
depending  on  the  left  side — a  stirrup  for  my  lady 's  foot. 

A  deeper  murmur,  a  sudden  lifting  of  sombreros  and 
waving  of  little  hands,  proclaimed  that  the  bridal  party 
had  appeared,  and  we  hastened  down. 

Prudencia,  the  mantilla  of  the  donas  depending  from 
a  comb  six  inches  high,  was  attired  in  a  white  satin  gown 
with  a  train  of  portentous  length,  and  looked  like  a 
kitten  with  a  long  tail.  Reinaldo  was  dazzling.  He 
wore  white  velvet  embroidered  with  gold ;  his  linen  and 
lace  were  more  fragile  than  cobwebs;  his  white  satin 
slippers  were  clasped  with  diamond  buckles,  the  same 
in  which  his  father  had  married;  his  jacket  was  but- 
toned with  diamonds.  His  white  velvet  sombrero  was 
covered  with  plumes.  Never  have  I  seen  so  splendid  a 
bridegroom.  I  saw  Estenega  grin ;  but  I  maintain  that, 
whatever  Reinaldo 's  deficiencies,  he  was  a  picture  to  be 
thankful  for  that  morning. 

Dona  Trinidad  wore  a  quiet  gown  of  gray  satin,  but 
Don  Guillermo  was  as  picturesque  in  his  way  as  his  son. 
His  black  silk  handkerchief  had  been  knotted  hurriedly 
about  his  head,  and  the  four  corners  hung  upon  his 
neck.  His  short  breeches  were  of  red  velvet,  his  jacket 
of  blue  cloth  was  trimmed  with  large  silver  buttons  and 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  293 

gold  lace;  his  vest  was  of  yellow  damask,  his  linen  em- 
broidered. Attached  to  his  slippers  were  enormous  sil- 
ver spurs  inlaid  with  gold,  the  rowels  so  long  that  they 
scratched  more  trains  than  one  that  day. 

The  bridesmaids  stood  in  a  group  apart,  a  large  bou- 
quet; each  wore  a  gown  of  a  different  color.  Valencia 
blazed  forth  in  yellow,  and  flashed  triumphant  glances 
at  Estenega,  now  and  again  one  of  irrepressible  envy 
and  resentment  at  Eeinaldo.  Chonita  looked  like  a 
water- witch  in  pale  green  covered  with  lace  that  stirred 
with  every  breath  of  air;  her  mantilla  was  as  delicate 
as  sea-spray.  About  her  was  something  subtle,  awak- 
ened, restive,  that  I  noticed  for  the  first  time.  Once 
she  intercepted  one  of  Valencia's  lavish  glances,  and 
her  own  eyes  were  extremely  wicked  and  dangerous  for  a 
moment.  I  looked  at  Estenega.  He  was  regarding  her 
with  a  fierce  intensity  which  made  him  oblivious  for  the 
moment  of  his  surroundings.  I  looked  at  Valencia. 
Thunder-clouds  were  those  heavy  brows,  lowered  to  the 
lightning  which  sprang  from  depths  below.  I  looked 
again  at  Chonita.  The  pink  color  was  in  her  marble 
face ;  pinker  were  her  carven  lips. 

' '  God  of  my  soul ! ' '  I  said  to  Estenega.    ' '  Go  home. ' ' 

' c  My  Prudencia ! ' '  said  Don  Guillermo.  He  lifted  her 
to  the  pink  saddle,  adjusted  her  foot  in  the  pink  ribbon, 
climbed  up  behind  her,  placed  one  arm  aboat  her  waist, 
took  the  bridle  in  his  other  hand,  and  cantered  out  of 
the  court-yard.  Reinaldo  sprang  to  his  horse,  lifted 
his  mother  in  front  of  him,  and  followed.  Then  went 
the  bridesmaids;  and  the  rest  of  us  fell  into  line  as  we 
listed.  As  we  rode  up  the  valley,  those  awaiting  us 
joined  the  cavalcade,  the  populace  closing  it,  spreading 
out  like  a  fan  attached  to  the  tail  of  a  snake.  The  bells 
rang  out  a  joyful  discordant  peal;  the  long  undulating 
line  of  many  colors  wound  through  the  trees,  passed 
the  long  corridor  of  the  Mission,  to  the  stone  steps  of 
the  church. 

The  ceremony  was  a  long  one,  for  communion  was 
given  the  bride  and  groom ;  and  during  the  greater  part 


294    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

of  it  I  do  not  think  Estenega  removed  his  gaze  from 
Chonita.  I  could  not  help  observing  her  too,  although 
I  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the  oc- 
casion. Her  round  womanly  figure  had  never  appeared 
to  greater  advantage  than  in  that  close-fitting  gown ;  her 
hips  being  rather  wide,  she  wore  fewer  gathers  than  was 
the  fashion.  Her  faultless  arms  had  a  warmth  in  their 
whiteness;  the  filmy  lace  of  her  mantilla  caressed  a 
throat  so  full  and  round  and  white  and  firm  that  it 
seemed  to  invite  other  caresses;  even  the  black  pearls 
clung  lovingly  about  it.  Her  graceful  head  was  bent 
forward  a  little,  and  the  soft  black  lashes  brushed  her 
cheeks.  The  pink  flush  was  still  in  her  face,  like  the 
first  tinge  of  color  on  the  chill  desolation  of  dawn. 

"Is  she  not  beautiful?"  whispered  Estenega  eagerly. 
' '  Is  not  that  a  woman  to  make  known  to  herself  ?  Think 
of  the  infinite  possibilities,  the  sublimation  of  every " 

Here  I  ordered  him  to  keep  quiet,  reminding  him  that 
he  was  in  church,  a  fact  he  had  quite  forgotten.  I  in- 
ferred that  he  remembered  it  later,  for  he  moved  rest- 
lessly more  than  once  and  looked  longingly  toward  the 
door. 

It  was  over  at  last,  and  as  the  bride  and  groom  ap- 
peared in  the  door  of  the  church  and  descended  the 
steps,  a  salute  was  fired  from  the  Presidio.  On  the  long 
corridor  a  table  had  been  built  from  end  to  end,  and  a 
goodly  banquet  provided  by  the  padres.  We  took  our 
seats  at  once,  the  populace  gathering  about  a  feast  spread 
for  them  on  the  grass. 

Padre  Ximeno,  the  priest  who  had  officiated  at  the 
ceremony,  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  the  other  priests 
were  scattered  among  us,  and  good  company  all  of  them 
were.  We  were  a  very  lively  party.  Prudencia  was 
toasted  until  her  calm  important  head  whirled.  Bein- 
aldo  made  a  speech  as  full  of  flowers  as  the  occasion  de- 
manded. Alvarado  made  one  also,  five  sentences  of 
plain  well-chosen  words,  to  which  the  bridegroom  lis- 
tened with  scorn.  Now  and  again  a  girl  swept  the 
strings  of  a  guitar  or  a  caballero  sang.  The  delighted 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  295 

shrieks  of  the  people  came  over  to  us ;  at  regular  inter- 
vals cannons  were  fired. 

Estenega  found  himself  seated  between  Chonita  and 
Valencia.  I  was  opposite,  and  beginning  to  feel  pro- 
foundly fascinated  by  this  drama  developing  before  my 
eyes.  I  saw  that  he  was  amused  by  the  situation  and 
not  in  the  least  disconcerted.  Valencia  was  nervous  and 
eager.  Chonita,  whose  pride  never  failed  her,  had 
drawn  herself  up  and  looked  coldly  indifferent. 

"Senor,"  murmured  Valencia,  "you  will  tarry  with 
us  long,  no  ?  We  have  much  to  show  you  in  Santa  Bar- 
bara, and  on  our  ranches. " 

"I  fear  that  I  can  stay  but  a  week,  senorita.  I  must 
return  to  Los  Angeles." 

"Would  nothing  tempt  you  to  stay,  Dan  Diego ?" 

He  looked  into  her  rich  Southern  face  and  approved 
of  it;  when  had  he  ever  failed  to  approve  of  a  pretty 
woman?  "Thine  eyes,  senorita,  would  tempt  a  man  to 
forget  more  than  duty." 

"And  thou  wilt  stay?" 

* i  When  I  leave  Santa  Barbara,  what  I  take  of  myself 
will  not  be  worth  leaving." 

"Ay!  and  what  thou  leavest  thou  never  shalt  have 
again. ' ' 

* '  There  is  my  hope  of  heaven,  senorita. ' ' 

He  turned  from  this  glittering  conversation  to  Cho- 
nita. 

"You  are  a  little  tired,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
"Your  color  has  gone,  and  the  shadows  are  coming 
about  your  eyes." 

The  suspicion  was  borne  home  to  her  that  he  must 
have  observed  her  closely  to  detect  those  shades  of  dif- 
ference which  no  one  else  had  noted. 

"A  little,  seiior.  I  went  to  bed  late  and  rose  early. 
Such  times  as  these  tax  the  endurance.  But  after  a 
siesta  I  shall  be  refreshed." 

"You  look  strong  and  very  healthy." 

"Ay,  but  I  am!  I  am  not  delicate  at  all.  I  can  ride 
all  day,  and  swim — which  few  of  our  women  do.  I  even 


296    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

like  to  walk;  and  I  can  dance  every  night  for  a  week. 
Only,  this  is  an  unusual  time. ' ' 

Her  supple  elastic  figure  and  healthy  whiteness  of 
skin  betokened  endurance  and  vitality,  and  he  looked  at 
her  with  pleasure.  "Yes,  you  are  strong,"  he  said. 
'  *  You  look  as  if  you  would  last — as  if  you  never  would 
grow  brown  or  stout. ' ' 

"What  difference,  if  the  next  generation  be  beauti- 
ful?" she  said  lightly.  "Look  at  Don  Juan  de  la  Bor- 
rasca.  See  him  gaze  upon  Panchita  Lopez,  who  is  just 
sixteen.  What  does  he  care  that  the  women  of  his  day 
are  coffee-colored  and  stringy,  or  fat?  You  will  care 
as  little  when  you  too  are  brown  and  dried  up,  afraid 
to  eat  dulces,  and  each  month  seeking  a  new  parting  for 
your  hair. ' ' 

"You  are  a  hopeful  seer!  But  you — are  you  re- 
signed to  the  time  when  even  the  withered  old  beau  will 
not  look  at  you — you  who  are  the  loveliest  woman  in  the 
Calif ornias?" 

It  was  the  first  compliment  he  had  paid  her,  and  she 
looked  up  with  a  swift  blush,  then  lowered  her  eyes 
again.  "With  truth,  I  never  in.°gine  myself  except  as 
I  am  now;  but  I  should  have  always  my  books,  and  no 
husband  to  teach  me  that  there  were  other  women  more 
fair." 

*  *  And  books  will  suffice,  then  ? ' ' 

"Surely."  She  said  it  a  little  wistfully.  Then  she 
added  abruptly:  "I  shall  go  to  confession  this  week." 

"Ah!" 

"Yes;  for  although  I  hate  you  still — that  is,  I  do  not 
like  you — I  have  forgiven  you.  I  believe  you  to  be  kind 
and  generous,  although  the  enemy  of  my  brother;  that 
if  you  did  oppose  him  and  cast  him  into  prison,  you  did 
so  from  a  loyal  motive.  You  cannot  help  making  mis- 
takes, for  you  are  but  human.  And  I  do  not  forget  that 
if  it  were  not  for  you  he  would  not  be  a  bridegroom 
to-day.  Also,  you  are  not  responsible  for  being  an  Este- 
nega;  so,  although  I  do  not  forgive  the  blood  in  you — 
how  could  I,  and  be  worthy  to  bear  the  name  of  Iturbi 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  297 

y  Moncada? — I  forgive  you,  yourself,  for  being  what 
you  cannot  help  and  for  what  you  have  unwittingly 
and  mistakenly  done.  Do  you  understand?" 

"I  understand.    Your  subtleties  are  magnificent. " 

"You  must  not  laugh  at  me.  Tell  me  how  do  you 
like  my  friend  Valencia  ? ' ' 

"Well  enough.  I  want  to  hear  more  about  your  con- 
fession. You  fall  back  into  the  bosom  of  your  Church 
with  joy,  I  suppose?" 

"Ay!" 

"And  you  would  never  disobey  one  of  her  man- 
dates?" 

"Holy  God!    No!" 

"Why?" 

"Why?    Because  I  am  a  Catholic." 

"That  is  not  what  I  asked  you.  Why  are  you  a  Cath- 
olic? if  I  must  make  myself  more  plain.  Why  are  you 
afraid  to  disobey?  Why  do  you  cling  to  the  Church 
with  your  back  braced  against  your  intelligence?  It  is 
hope  of  future  reward,  I  suppose — or  fear?" 

"Assuredly.  I  want  to  go  to  the  heaven  of  the  good 
Catholic." 

"Do  not  waste  this  life,  particularly  the  youth  of  it, 
preparing  for  a  legendary  hereafter.  Granting,  for 
the  sake  of  argument,  that  this  existence  is  supplemented 
by  another:  you  have  no  knowledge  of  what  elements 
you  will  be  composed  when  you  lay  aside  your  mortal 
part  to  enter  there.  Your  power  of  enjoyment  may  be 
very  thin  indeed,  like  the  music  of  a  band  without 
brass;  the  sort  of  happiness  one  can  imagine  a  human 
being  to  experience  out  of  whose  anatomy  the  nervous 
system  has  by  some  surgical  triumph  been  removed,  and 
in  whom  love  of  the  arts  alone  exists,  abnormally  culti- 
vated. But  one  thing  we  of  earth  do  know ;  you  do  not, 
but  I  will  tell  you :  we  have  a  slight  capacity  for  happi- 
ness and  a  large  capacity  for  enjoyment.  There  is  not 
much  in  life,  God  knows,  but  there  is  something.  One 
can  get  a  reasonable  amount  out  of  it  with  a  due  exercise 


298    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

of  philosophy.  Of  that  we  are  sure.  Of  what  comes 
after  we  are  absolutely  unsure. " 

She  had  endeavored  to  interrupt  him  once  or  twice, 
and  did  so  now,  her  eyes  flashing.  "Are  you  an  athe- 
ist?" she  demanded.  ' '  Are  you  not  a  Catholic  ? ' ' 

"I  am  neither  an  atheist  nor  a  Catholic.  The  ques- 
tion of  religion  has  no  interest  for  me  whatever.  I 
wish  it  had  none  for  you. ' ' 

She  looked  at  him  sternly.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
the  Doomswoman  would  annihilate  the  renegade.  But 
her  face  softened  suddenly.  "I  will  pray  for  you,"  she 
said,  and  turned  to  the  man  at  her  right. 

Estenega  's  face  turned  the  chalky  hue  I  always  dread- 
ed, and  he  bent  his  lips  to  her  ear.  ' '  Pray  for  me  many 
times  a  day;  and  at  other  times  recall  what  I  said  about 
the  relative  value  of  possible  and  improbable  heavens. 
You  are  a  woman  who  thinks." 

"Don  Diego,"  exclaimed  Valencia,  unable  to  control 
her  impatience  longer,  and  turning  sharply  from  the 
caballero  who  was  talking  to  her  in  a  fiery  undertone, 
"you  have  not  spoken  to  me  for  ten  minutes." 

"For  ten  hours,  senorita.  You  have  treated  me  with 
the  scorn  and  indifference  of  one  weary  of  homage." 

She  blushed  with  gratification.  "It  is  you  who  have 
forgotten  me. ' ' 

"Would  that  I  could!" 

" Dost  thou  wish  to?" 

1 1  When  I  am  away  from  thee,  or  thou  talkest  to  other 
men — surely. ' ' 

"It  is  thy  fault  if  I  talk  to  other  men." 

"You  make  me  feel  the  Good  Samaritan." 

"But  I  care  not  to  talk  to  them." 

"Thy  heart  is  a  comb  of  honey,  senorita.  On  my 
knees  I  accept  the  little  morsel  the  queen  bee — thy  swift 
messenger — brings  me.  Truly,  never  was  sweet  so  sweet- 
ly sweet. ' * 

"It  is  thou  who  hast  the  honey  on  thy  tongue,  al- 
though I  fear  there  may  be  a  stone  in  thy  heart." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  299 

"Ah?  Why?  No  stone  could  sit  so  lightly  in  my 
breast  as  my  heart  when  those  red  lips  smile  to  me. ' ' 

Chonita  listened  to  this  conversation  with  mingled 
amazement  and  anger.  She  did  not  doubt  Estenega's 
sincerity  to  herself ;  neither  did  Valencia  appear  to  doubt 
him.  But  his  present  levity  was  manifest  to  her.  Why 
should  he  care  to  talk  so  to  another  woman?  How 
strange  were  men !  She  gave  up  the  problem. 

After  the  long  banquet  concluded,  the  cavalcade 
formed  once  more,  and  we  returned  to  the  town.  Pru- 
dencia  rode  her  white  horse  alone  this  time,  her  hus- 
band beside  her.  Leading  the  cavalcade  was  the  Pre- 
sidio band.  Its  members  wore  red  jackets  trimmed  with 
yellow  cord,  Turkish  trousers  of  white  wool,  and  red 
Polish  caps.  With  their  music  mingled  the  regular 
detonations  of  the  Presidio  cannon.  After  we  had  wound 
the  length  of  the  valley  we  made  a  progress  through  the 
town  for  the  benefit  of  the  populace,  who  mounted  the 
corridors  to  watch  us,  and  shouted  with  delight.  But 
the  sun  was  hot,  and  we  were  all  glad  to  be  between  the 
thick  adobe  walls  once  more. 

We  took  a  long  siesta  that  day,  but  hours  before  dark 
the  populace  was  crowded  in  the  court-yard  under  the 
booth  which  had  been  erected  during  the  afternoon. 
After  the  early  supper  the  guests  of  Casa  Grande  and 
our  neighbors  of  the  town  filled  the  sala,  the  large  bare 
rooms  adjoining,  and  the  corridors.  The  old  people  of 
both  degrees  seated  themselves  in  rows  again  the  wall, 
the  fiddles  scraped,  the  guitars  twanged,  the  flutes  cooed, 
and  the  dancing  began. 

In  the  court-yard  a  small  space  was  cleared,  and 
changing  couples  danced  El  Jarabe  and  La  Jota — two 
stately  jigs — while  the  spectators  applauded  with  wild 
and  impartial  enthusiasm,  and  Don  Guillermo  from  the 
corridor  threw  silver  coins  at  the  dancers'  feet.  Now 
and  again  a  pretty  girl  would  d^nce  alone,  her  gay  skirt 
lifted  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  ground.  A  man  would  approach  from  behind  and 
place  his  hat  on  her  head.  Perhaps  she  would  toss  it 


300    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

saucily  aside,  perhaps  let  it  rest  on  her  coquettish  braids 
— a  token  that  its  owner  was  her  accepted  gallant  for 
the  evening. 

Above,  the  slender  men  and  women  of  the  aristocracy, 
the  former  in  black  and  white,  the  latter  in  rich  and 
vivid  gowns,  danced  the  contradanza,  the  most  graceful 
dance  I  have  ever  seen ;  and  since  those  Californian  days 
I  have  lived  in  almost  every  capital  of  Europe.  The 
music  is  so  monotonous  and  sweet,  the  figures  so  melting 
and  harmonious,  that  to  both  spectator  and  dancer  comes 
a  dreaming  languid  contentment,  as  were  the  senses 
swimming  on  the  brink  of  sleep.  Chonita  and  Valencia 
were  famous  rivals  in  its  rendering,  always  the  sala- 
stars  to  those  not  dancing.  Valencia  was  the  perfection 
of  grace,  but  it  was  the  grace  now  of  the  snake,  again  of 
the  cat.  She  suggested  fangs  and  claws,  a  repressed 
propensity  to  sudden  leaps.  Chonita 's  grace  was  that 
of  rhythmical  music  imprisoned  in  a  woman's  form  of 
proportions  so  perfect  that  she  seemed  to  dissolve  from 
one  figure  into  another,  swaying,  bending,  gliding.  The 
soul  of  grace  emanated  from  her,  too  evanescent  to  be 
seen,  but  felt  as  one  feels  perfume,  or  the  something  that 
is  not  color  in  the  heart  of  a  rose.  Her  star-like  eyes 
were  open,  but  the  brain  behind  them  was  half  asleep; 
she  danced  by  instinct. 

I  was  watching  the  dancing  of  these  two — the  poetry 
of  promise  and  the  poetry  of  death — when  suddenly 
Don  Guillermo  entered  the  room,  stamped  his  foot, 
pulled  out  his  rosary,  and  instantly  we  all  went  down  on 
our  knees.  It  was  eight  of  the  clock,  and  this  ceremony 
was  never  omitted  in  Casa  Grande,  be  the  occasion  fes- 
tive or  domestic.  When  we  had  told  our  beads,  Don 
Guillermo  rose,  put  his  rosary  in  his  pocket,  trotted  out, 
and  the  dancing  was  resumed. 

As  the  contradanza  and  its  ensuing  waltz  finished, 
Estenega  went  up  to  Chonita.  "You  are  too  tired  to 
dance  any  more  to-night/'  he  said.  "Let  us  sit  here 
and  talk.  Besides,  I  do  not  like  to  see  you  whirling 
about  the  room  in  men's  arms." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  301 

"It  is  nothing  to  you  if  I  dance  with  other  men,"  she 
said  rehelliously,  although  she  took  the  seat  he  indi- 
cated. "And  to  dance  is  not  wrong." 

' '  Nothing  is  wrong.  In  some  countries  the  biggest  liar 
is  king.  We  know  as  little  of  ethics — except,  to  be  sure, 
the  ethics  of  civilization — as  one  sex  knows  of  another. 
So  we  fall  back  on  instinct.  I  have  not  a  prejudice,  but 
I  feel  it  disgusting  to  see  a  woman  who  is  somewhat  more 
to  me  than  other  women,  embraced  by  another  man.  It 
would  infuriate  me  if  done  in  private;  why  should  it 
not  at  least  disgust  me  in  public?  I  care  as  little  for 
the  approving  seal  of  the  conventions  as  I  care  whether 
other  women — including  my  own  sisters — waltz  or  not. ' ' 

And,  alas!  from  that  night  Chonita  never  waltzed 
again.  "It  is  not  that  I  care  for  his  opinion,"  she  as- 
sured me  later;  "only  he  made  me  feel  that  I  never 
wanted  a  man  to  touch  me  again. ' ' 

Valencia  used  every  art  of  flashing  eyes  and  pouting 
lips  and  gay  sally — there  was  nothing  subtle  in  her 
methods — to  win  Estenega  to  her  side ;  but  the  sofa  on 
which  he  sat  with  Chonita  might  have  been  the  remotest 
star  in  the  firmament.  Then,  prompted  by  pique  and 
determination  to  find  ointment  for  her  wounded  vanity, 
she  suddenly  opened  her  batteries  upon  Eeinaldo.  That 
beautiful  young  bridegroom  was  bored  to  the  verge  of 
dissolution  by  his  solemn  and  sleepy  Prudencia,  who 
kept  her  wide  eyes  upon  him  with  an  expression  of  rapt 
adoration,  exactly  as  she  regarded  the  Stations  in  the 
Mission  when  performing  the  Via  Crucis.  Valencia,  to 
his  mind,  was  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  room,  and 
he  felt  the  flattery  of  her  assault.  Besides,  he  was  safely 
married.  So  he  drifted  to  her  side,  danced  with  her, 
flirted  with  her,  devoted  himself  to  her  caprices,  until 
everyone  was  noting  and  I  thought  that  Prudencia  would 
bawl  outright.  Just  at  the  moment,  however,  when  our 
nerves  were  humming,  Don  Guillermo  thumped  on  the 
door  with  his  stick  and  ordered  us  all  to  go  to  bed. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  next  morning  we  started  at  an  early  hour  for  the 
Rancho  de  las  Rocas,  three  leagues  from  Santa  Bar- 
bara. The  populace  remained  in  the  booth,  but  we  were 
joined  by  all  our  friends  of  the  town,  and  once  more 
were  a  large  party.  We  were  bound  for  a  merienda  and 
a  carnesada,  where  bullocks  would  be  roasted  whole  on 
spits  over  a  bed  of  coals  in  a  deep  excavation.  It  took  a 
Californian  only  a  few  hours  to  sleep  off  fatigue,  and 
we  were  as  fresh  and  gay  as  if  we  had  gone  to  bed  at 
eight  the  night  before. 

Valencia  managed  to  ride  beside  Estenega,  and  I 
wondered  if  she  would  win  him.  Woman's  persistence, 
allied  to  man's  vanity,  so  often  accomplishes  the  result 
intended  by  the  woman.  It  seemed  to  me  the  simplest 
climax  for  the  unfolding  drama,  although  I  should  have 
been  sorry  for  Diego. 

It  was  Reinaldo's  turn  to  look  black,  but  he  devoted 
himself  ostentatiously  to  Prudencia,  who  beamed  like  a 
child  with  a  stick  of  candy.  Chonita  rode  between  Don 
Juan  de  la  Borrasca  and  Adan.  Her  face  was  calm,  but 
it  occurred  to  me  that  she  was  growing  careless  of  her 
sovereignty,  for  her  manner  was  abstracted  and  indif- 
ferent; she  seemed  to  have  discarded  those  little  co- 
quetries that  had  sat  so  gracefully  upon  her.  Still,  as 
long  as  she  concealed  the  light  of  her  mind  under  a 
bushel,  her  beauty  and  Loreleian  fascination  would  draw 
men  to  her  feet  and  keep  them  there.  Every  man  but 
Estenega  and  Alvarado  was  as  gay  of  color  as  the  wild 
flowers  had  been,  and  the  girls,  as  they  cantered,  looked 
like  full-blown  roses.  Chonita  wore  a  dark-blue  gown 
and  reboso  of  thin  silk,  which  became  her  fairness  mar- 
velously  well. 

302 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  303 

"Dona  Chonita,  light  of  my  eyes,"  said  Don  Juan, 
"thou  art  not  wont  to  be  so  quiet  when  I  am  by  thee." 

"You  usually  have  enough  to  say  for  two." 

"Ay,  thou  canst  appreciate  the  art  of  speech.  Hast 
thou  ever  known  any  one  who  could  converse  with  lighter 
ease  than  I  and  thy  brother?" 

"I  never  have  heard  any  one  use  more  words." 

' '  Ay !  they  roll  from  my  tongue — and  from  Reinaldo  's 
— like  wheels  downhill." 

She  turned  to  Adan :  ' '  They  will  be  happy,  you  think 
— Eeinaldo  and  Prudencia  ? ' ' 

"Ay!" 

"What  a  beautiful  wedding,  no?" 

"Ay!" 

"Life  is  always  the  same  with  you,  I  suppose — smok- 
ing, riding,  swinging  in  the  hammock  ? ' ' 

"Ay!" 

' '  You  would  not  exchange  your  life  for  another  ?  You 
do  not  wish  to  travel  ? ' ' 

"No— surely." 

She  wheeled  suddenly  and  galloped  over  to  her  father 
and  Alvarado,  her  caballeros  staring  helplessly  after  her. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  rancho  the  bullocks  were 
already  swinging  in  the  pits,  the  smell  of  roast  meat  was 
in  the  air.  We  dismounted,  throwing  our  bridles  to  the 
vaqueros  in  waiting;  and  while  Indian  servants  spread 
the  table,  the  girls  joined  hands  and  danced  about  the 
pit,  throwing  flowers  upon  the  bullocks,  singing  and 
laughing.  The  men  watched  them,  or  amused  them- 
selves in  various  ways — some  with  cockfights  and  im- 
promptu races;  others  began  at  once  to  gamble  on  a 
large  flat  stone ;  a  group  stood  about  a  greased  pole  and 
jeered  at  two  rival  vaqueros  endeavoring  to  mount  it  for 
the  sake  of  the  gold  piece  on  the  top.  One  buried  a 
rooster  in  the  ground,  leaving  its  head  alone  exposed; 
others,  mounting  their  horses,  dashed  by  at  full  speed, 
snatching  at  the  head  as  they  passed.  Reinaldo  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  twisting  it  off  with  facile  wrist 
while  urging  his  horse  to  the  swiftness  of  the  east  wind. 


804    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"I  am  going  to  dare  more  than  Calif ornian  has  ever 
dared  before,"  said  Estenega  to  me,  as  we  gathered  at 
length  about  the  table-cloth.  "I  am  going  to  get  Dona 
Chonita  off  by  herself  in  that  little  canon,  and  have  a 
talk  with  her.  Now,  do  you  stand  guard/' 

"I  shall  not!"  I  exclaimed.  "It  is  understood  that 
when  Dona  Trinidad  stays  at  home  Chonita  is  in  my 
charge.  I  shall  not  permit  such  a  thing." 

"You  shall,  my  Eustaquia.  Dona  Chonita  is  no 
pudding-brained  girl.  She  needs  no  duena." 

"I  know  that;  but  it  is  not  that  I  am  thinking  of. 
Suppose  some  one  sees  you ;  you  know  the  inflexibility  of 
our  conventions." 

"You  forget  that  we  are  comadre  and  compadre. 
Our  privileges  are  many." 

* '  True ;  I  had  forgotten.  But  whither  is  all  this  tend- 
ing, Diego?  She  neither  will  nor  can  marry  you." 

"She  both  can  and  will.  Will  you  help  me,  or  not? 
Because  if  not  I  shall  proceed  without  you.  Only  you 
can  make  it  easier. ' ' 

I  always  gave  way  to  him ;  everybody  did. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  How  he  managed,  Cho- 
nita never  knew,  but  not  a  half  hour  after  dinner  she 
found  herself  alone  in  the  canon  with  him,  seated  among 
the  huge  stones  cataclysms  had  hurled  there. 

"Why  have  you  brought  me  here?"  she  asked. 

"To  talk  with  you." 

"But  this  would  be  most  severely  censured." 

"Do  you  care?" 

"No." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  curious  feeling  she  had  had 
before ;  there  was  something  inside  of  his  head  that  she 
wanted  to  get  at — something  that  baffled  and  teased  and 
allured  her.  She  wanted  to  understand  him,  and  she 
was  oppressed  by  the  weight  of  her  ignorance ;  she  had 
no  key  to  unlock  a  man  like  that.  With  one  of  her 
swift  impulses  she  told  him  of  what  she  was  thinking. 

He  smiled,  his  eyes  lighting.  "I  am  more  than  will- 
ing you  should  know  all  that  you  would  be  curious 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  305 

about, "  he  said.  "Ask  me  a  hundred  questions;  I  will 
answer  them. ' ' 

She  meditated  a  moment.  She  never  had  taken  suffi- 
cient interest  in  a  man  before  to  desire  to  fathom  him, 
and  the  arts  of  the  Californian  belle  were  not  those  of 
the  tactfully  and  impartially  interested  woman  of  to- 
day. She  did  not  know  how  to  begin. 

"What  have  you  read?"  she  asked,  at  length. 

He  gave  her  some  account  of  his  library — a  large  one 
— and  mentioned  many  books  of  many  nations,  of  which 
she  had  never  heard. 

"You  have  read  all  those  books?" 

' '  There  are  many  long  winter  nights  and  days  in  the 
redwood  forests  of  the  northern  coast. ' ' 

"That  does  not  tell  me  much — what  you  have  read. 
I  feel  that  it  is  but  one  of  the  many  items  which  went 
to  the  making  up  of  you.  You  have  traveled  every- 
where, no?  Was  it  like  living  over  again  the  books  of 
travel?" 

* '  Not  in  the  least.    Each  man  travels  for  himself. ' ' 

"Madame  de  Stael  said  that  traveling  was  sad.  Is  it 
so?" 

' '  To  the  lover  of  history,  it  is  like  food  without  salt. 
Imagination  has  painted  an  historical  city  with  the  pan- 
orama of  a  great  time;  it  has  been  to  us  a  stage  for 
great  events.  We  find  it  a  stage  with  familiar  parapher- 
nalia, and  actors  as  commonplace  as  ourselves. ' ' 

"It  is  more  satisfactory  to  stay  at  home  and  read 
about  it?" 

"Infinitely,  though  less  expanding." 

''Then  is  anything  worth  while  except  reading?" 

"Several  things;  the  pursuit  of  glory,  for  one  thing, 
and  the  active  occupied  life  necessary  for  its  achieve- 
ment." 

She  leaned  forward  a  little;  she  felt  that  she  had 
stumbled  nearer  to  him.  "Are  you  ambitious?"  she 
asked. 

"For  what  it  compels  life  to  yield;  abstractly,  not. 
Ambition  is  the  looting  of  hell  in  chase  of  biting  flames 


306    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

swirling  above  a  desert  of  ashes.  As  for  posthumous 
fame,  it  must  be  about  as  satisfactory  as  a  draught  of 
ice-water  poured  down  the  throat  of  a  man  who  has  died 
on  Sahara.  And  yet,  even  if  in  the  end  it  all  means 
nothing,  if  from  hour  to  hour  we  ripe  and  ripe,  and 
then  from  hour  to  hour  we  rot  and  rot,  still  for  a  quar- 
ter century  or  so  the  nettle  of  ambition  flagellating  our 
brain  may  serve  to  make  life  less  torpid  and  more  satis- 
factory. The  turmoil  of  and  absorption  in  the  fight,  the 
stinging  fear  of  rivals,  the  murmur  of  acknowledgment, 
the  shout  of  compelled  applause — they  fill  the  blanks." 

* '  Tell  me, ' '  she  said  imperiously, ' '  what  do  you  want. ' ' 

"Shall  I  tell  you?  I  never  have  spoken  of  it  to  a 
living  soul  but  Alvarado.  Shall  I  tell  it  to  a  woman — 
and  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  ?  Could  the  folly  of  man  fur- 
ther go?" 

"  If  I  am  a  woman,  I  am  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  and 
if  I  am  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  I  have  the  honor  of  its 
generations  in  my  veins." 

1 1  Very  good.  I  believe  you  would  not  betray  me,  even 
in  the  interest  of  your  house.  Would  you  ? ' ' 

"No." 

"And  I  love  to  talk  to  you,  to  tell  you  what  I  would 
tell  no  other.  Listen,  then.  An  envoy  goes  to  Mexico 
next  week  with  letters  from  Alvarado,  desiring  that  I 
be  the  next  Governor  of  the  Californias,  and  containing 
the  assurance  that  the  Departmental  Junta  will  endorse 
me.  I  shall  follow  next  month  to  see  Santa  Ana  per- 
sonally; I  know  him  well,  and  he  was  a  friend  of  my 
father's.  I  wish  to  be  invested  with  peculiar  powers; 
that  is  to  say,  I  wish  California  to  be  practically  over- 
looked while  I  am  Governor,  and  I  wish  it  understood 
that  I  shall  be  Governor  as  long  as  I  please.  Alvarado 
will  hold  no  office  under  the  Americans,  and  is  as  ready 
to  retire  now  as  a  few  years  later.  Of  course  my  predi- 
lection for  the  Americans  must  be  carefully  concealed 
both  from  the  Mexican  government  and  the  mass  of  the 
people  here;  Santa  Ana  and  Alvarado  know  what  is 
bound  to  come;  the  Mexicans,  generally,  retain  enough 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  807 

interest  in  the  Californias  to  wish  to  keep  them.  I  shall 
be  the  last  Governor  of  the  Department,  and  I  shall  em- 
ploy that  period  so  to  amalgamate  the  native  population 
that  they  will  make  a  strong  contingent  in  the  new  order 
of  things,  and  be  completely  under  my  domination.  I 
shall  establish  a  college  with  American  professors,  so 
that  our  youth  will  be  taught  to  think,  and  to  think  in 
English.  Alvarado  has  done  something  for  education, 
but  not  enough ;  he  has  not  enforced  it,  and  the  methods 
are  very  primitive.  I  intend  to  be  virtually  dictator. 
With  as  little  delay  as  possible  I  shall  establish  a  news- 
paper— a  powerful  weapon  in  the  hands  of  a  ruler,  as 
well  as  a  factor  of  development.  Then  I  shall  organize 
a  superior  court  for  the  punishment  of  capital  crimes. 
There  can  be  no  subservience  to  authority  in  a  country 
where  murder  is  practically  licensed.  American  immi- 
gration will  be  more  than  encouraged,  and  it  shall  be  dis- 
tinctly understood  by  the  Americans  that  I  encourage  it. 
Everything,  of  course,  will  be  done  to  promote  good-will 
between  the  Californians  and  the  new-comers.  Then, 
when  the  United  States  make  up  their  mind  to  take  pos- 
session of  us,  I  shall  waste  no  blood,  but  hand  over  a 
country  worthy  of  capture.  In  the  meantime  it  will  have 
been  carefully  drilled  into  the  Californian  mind  that 
American  occupation  will  be  for  their  ultimate  good,  and 
that  I  shall  go  to  Washington  to  protect  their  interests. 
There  will  then  be  no  foolish  insurrections.  Do  you 
care  to  hear  more  ? ' ' 

Her  face  was  flushed,  her  chest  was  rising  rapidly. 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  think — how  I  feel.  You  in- 
terest me  so  much  as  you  talk  that  I  wish  you  to  suc- 
ceed ;  I  picture  your  success.  And  yet  it  maddens  me  to 
hear  you  talk  of  the  Americans  in  that  way — also  to 
know  that  your  house  will  be  greater  than  ours — that  we 
will  be  forgotten.  But — yes,  tell  me  all.  What  will  you 
do  then?" 

"I  shall  have  California,  in  the  first  place,  scratched 
for  the  gold  that  I  believe  lies  somewhere  within  her. 
When  that  great  resource  is  located  and  developed  I 


308    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

shall  publish  in  every  American  newspaper  the  extraor- 
dinary agricultural  resources  of  the  country.  In  a  word, 
my  object  is  to  make  California  a  great  State,  and  its 
name  synonymous  with  my  own.  As  I  told  you  before, 
for  fame  as  fame  I  care  nothing;  I  do  not  care  if  I  am 
forgotten  on  my  death-bed ;  but  with  my  blood  biting  my 
veins  I  must  have  action  while  living.  Shall  I  say  that 
I  have  a  worthier  motive  in  wishing  to  aid  in  the  devel- 
opment of  civilization?  But  why  worthier?  Merely  a 
higher  form  of  selfishness.  The  best  and  the  worst  of 
motives  are  prompted  by  the  same  instinct." 

"I  should  advise  you,"  she  said  slowly,  "never  to 
marry.  Your  wife  would  be  very  unhappy." 

"But  no  one  has  greater  scorn  than  you  for  the  man 
who  spends  his  life  with  his  lips  at  the  chalice  of  the 
poppy." 

"True;  I  had  forgotten  them."  She  rose  abruptly. 
"Let  us  go  back,"  she  said.  "It  is  better  not  to  stay 
too  long. ' ' 

As  they  walked  down  the  canon  she  looked  at  him  fur- 
tively. The  men  of  her  race  were  almost  all  tall  and 
finely  proportioned,  but  they  did  not  suggest  strength 
as  this  man  did.  And  his  face — it  was  so  grimly  de- 
termined at  times  that  she  shrank  from  it,  then  drew 
near,  fascinated.  It  had  no  beauty  at  all — according  to 
Calif ornian  standards;  she  could  not  know  that  it  rep- 
resented all  that  intellect,  refinement,  and  civilization 
generally,  would  do  for  the  human  race  for  a  century  to 
come — but  it  had  a  subtle  power,  an  absolute  audacity, 
an  almost  contemptuous  fearlessness  in  its  bold  fine  out- 
line, a  dominating  intelligence  in  the  keen  deeply  set 
eyes,  and  a  hint  of  weakness,  where  and  what  she  could 
not  determine,  that  mystified  and  magnetized  her. 

"I  know  you  a  little  better,"  she  said,  "just  a  little — 
enough  to  make  my  curiosity  ache  and  jump.  At  the 
same  time,  I  know  now  what  I  did  not  before — that  I 
might  climb,  and  mine,  and  study,  and  watch,  and  you 
would  always  be  beyond  me.  There  is  something  subtle 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  309 

and  evasive  about  you — something  I  seem  to  be  close  to 
always,  yet  never  can  see  nor  grasp. ' ' 

"It  is  merely  the  barrier  of  sex.  A  man  can  know  a 
woman  fairly  well,  because  her  life,  consequently  the 
interests  which  mold  her  mind  and  conceive  her 
thoughts,  are  more  or  less  simple.  A  man's  life  is  so 
complex,  his  nature  so  inevitably  the  sum  and  work  of 
it — much  of  it  lies  so  far  outside  of  woman's  sphere :  his 
mind  spiked  with  a  thousand  magnets,  each  pointing  to 
a  different  possibility — that  she  would  need  divine  wis- 
dom to  comprehend  him  in  his  entirety,  even  if  he  made 
her  a  diagram  of  every  cell  in  his  brain — which  he 
never  would,  out  of  consideration  for  both  her  and  his 
own  vanity.  But  within  certain  restrictions  there  can 
be  a  magnificent  sense  of  comradeship." 

"But  a  woman,  I  think,  would  never  be  happy  with 
that  something  in  the  mam  always  beyond  her  grasp — 
that  something  to  which  she  could  be  nothing.  She 
would  be  more  jealous  of  that  independence  of  her  in 
man  than  of  another  woman." 

"That  was  pure  insight,"  he  said.  "You  could  not 
know  that." 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  had  not  thought  of  it  before." 

I  had  made  a  martyr  of  myself  on  a  three-cornered 
stone  at  the  entrance  of  the  canon,  waiting  to  duena 
them  out.  "Never  will  I  do  this  again!"  I  exclaimed, 
with  that  virtue  born  of  discomfort,  as  they  came  in 
sight. 

"My  dearest  Eustaquia,"  said  Diego,  kissing  my  hand 
gallantly,  "thou  hast  given  me  pleasure  so  often,  most 
charming  and  clever  of  women,  thou  hast  but  added  one 
new  art  to  thy  overflowing  store." 

We  mounted  almost  immediately  upon  returning,  and 
I  was  alone  with  Chonita  for  a  moment.  "Do  you  real- 
ize that  you  are  playing  with  fire?"  I  said  warningly. 
' '  Estenega  is  a  dangerous  man ;  the  most  successful  man 
with  women  I  have  ever  known." 

"  I  do  not  deny  his  power, ' '  she  said.  ' '  But  I  am  safe 
for  the  many  reasons  you  know  of.  And,  being  safe, 


310    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

why  should  I  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  talking  to  him  ? 
I  shall  never  meet  his  like  again.  Let  me  live  for  a 
little  while. " 

"Ay,  but  do  not  live  too  hard!    It  hurts  down  into 
the  core  and  marrow. " 


CHAPTER   XX 

WHILE  we  were  eating  supper,  a  dozen  Indian  girls  were 
gathered  about  a  table  in  one  of  the  large  rooms  behind 
the  house,  busily  engaged  in  blowing  out  the  contents 
of  several  hundred  eggs  and  filling  the  hollowed  shells 
with  cologne,  flour,  tinsel,  bright  scraps  of  paper.  Each 
egg  was  then  sealed  with  white  wax,  and  ready  for  the 
cascaron  frolic  of  the  evening. 

We  had  been  dancing,  singing,  and  talking  for  an  hour 
after  rosario,  when  the  eggs  were  brought  in.  In  an  in- 
stant every  girl's  hair  was  unbound,  a  wild  dive  was 
made  for  the  great  trays,  and  eggs  flew  in  every  direc- 
tion. Dancing  was  forgotten.  The  girls  and  men  chased 
one  another  about  the  room,  the  air  was  filled  with 
perfume  and  glittering  particles,  the  latter  looking  very 
pretty  on  black  floating  hair.  Etiquette  demanded  that 
only  one  egg  should  be  thrown  by  the  same  hand  at  a 
time,  but  quick  turns  of  supple  wrists  followed  one  an- 
other very  rapidly.  Really  to  accomplish  a  feat  the  egg 
must  crash  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and  each  occupied 
in  attack  was  easy  prey. 

Chonita  was  like  a  child.  Two  priests  were  of  our 
party,  and  she  made  a  target  of  their  shaven  crowns, 
shrieking  with  delight.  They  vowed  revenge,  and  chased 
her  all  over  the  house ;  but  not  an  egg  had  broken  on  that 
golden  mane.  She  was  surrounded  at  one  time  by  cabal- 
leros,  but  she  whirled  and  doubled  so  swiftly  that  every 
cascaron  flew  afield. 

The  pelting  grew  faster  and  more  furious ;  every  room 
was  invaded;  we  chased  one  another  up  and  down  the 
corridors.  The  people  in  the  court  had  their  cascarones 
also,  and  the  noise  must  have  been  heard  at  the  Mission. 
Don  Guillermo  hobbled  about  delightedly,  covered  with 

311 


312    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

tinsel  and  flour.  Estenega  had  tried  a  dozen  times  to 
hit  Chonita,  but  as  if  by  instinct  she  faced  him  each 
time  before  the  egg  could  leave  his  hand.  Finally  he 
pursued  her  down  the  corridor  to  her  library,  where  I, 
fortunately,  happened  to  be  resting,  and  both  threw 
themselves  into  chairs,  breathless. 

"Let  us  stay  here/'  he  said.  "We  have  had  enough 
of  this.' ' 

"Very  well/'  she  said.  She  bent  her  head  to  lift  a 
book  which  had  fallen  from  a  shelf,  and  felt  the  soft  blow 
of  the  cascaron. 

"At  last!"  said  Estenega  contentedly.  "I  was  de- 
termined to  conquer,  if  I  waited  until  morning. ' ' 

Chonita  looked  vexed  for  a  moment — she  did  not  like 
to  be  vanquished — then  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
leaned  back  in  her  chair.  The  little  room  was  plainly 
furnished.  Shelves  covered  three  sides,  and  the  window- 
seat  and  the  table  were  littered  with  books.  There  were 
no  curtains,  no  ornaments ;  but  Chonita 's  hair,  billowing 
to  the  floor,  her  slender  voluptuous  form,  her  white  skin 
and  green  irradiating  eyes,  the  candlelight  half  reveal- 
ing, half  concealing,  made  a  picture  requiring  no  back- 
ground. I  caught  the  expression  of  Estenega 's  face 
and  determined  to  remain  if  he  murdered  me. 

Peals  of  laughter,  joyous  shrieks,  screams  of  mock 
terror,  floated  in  to  us.  I  broke  a  silence  which  was 
growing  awkward: 

"How  happy  they  are!  Creatures  of  air  and  sun- 
shine! Life  in  this  Arcadia  is  an  idyl." 

"They  are  not  happy,"  said  Estenega  contemptuous- 
ly; "they  are  gay.  They  are  light  of  heart  through 
endless  sources  of  enjoyment  and  absence  of  material 
cares,  which  in  turn  have  bred  a  careless  order  of  mind. 
But  did  each  pause  long  enough  to  look  into  his  own 
heart,  would  he  not  find  a  stone  somewhere  in  its  depths  ? 
— perhaps  a  skull  graven  on  the  stone — who  knows?" 

"Oh,  Diego!"  I  exclaimed  impatiently,  "this  is  a 
party,  not  a  funeral." 

"Then  is  no  one  happy?"  asked  Chonita  wistfully. 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  313 

"How  can  lie  be,  when  in  each  moment  of  attainment 
he  is  pricked  by  the  knowledge  that  it  must  soon  be 
over?  The  youth  is  not  happy,  because  the  shadow  of 
the  future  is  on  him.  The  man  is  not  happy,  because 
the  knowledge  of  life's  incompleteness  is  with  him." 

"Then  of  what  use  to  live  at  all?" 

"No  use.  It  is  no  use  to  die  either,  so  we  live.  I  will 
grant  that  there  may  be  ten  completely  happy  moments 
in  life — the  ten  conscious  moments  preceding  certain 
death — and  oblivion." 

"I  will  not  discuss  the  beautiful  hope  of  our  religion 
with  you,  because  you  do  not  believe,  and  I  should  only 
get  angry.  But  what  are  we  to  do  with  this  life  ?  You 
say  nothing  is  wrong  nor  right.  What  would  you  have 
the  stumbling  and  unanchored  do  with  what  has  been 
thrust  upon  him?" 

"Man,  in  his  gropings  down  through  the  centuries, 
has  concocted,  shivered,  and  patched  certain  social  con- 
ditions well  enough  calculated  to  develop  the  best  and 
the  worst  that  is  in  us,  making  it  easier  for  us  to  be  bad 
than  good,  that  good  might  be  the  standard.  "We  feel  a 
deeper  satisfaction  if  we  have  conquered  an  evil  im- 
pulse and  done  what  is  accepted  as  right,  because  we 
have  groaned  and  stumbled  in  the  doing — that  is  all. 
Temptation  is  sweet  only  because  the  impulse  comes 
from  the  depths  of  our  being,  not  because  it  is  difficult 
to  be  tempted.  If  we  overcome,  the  satisfaction  is  deep 
and  enduring — which  only  goes  to  show  that  man  is  but 
a  petty  egoist,  always  drawing  pictures  of  himself  on  a 
pedestal.  The  man  who  emancipates  himself  from  tra- 
ditions and  yields  to  his  impulses  is  debarred  from  hap- 
piness by  the  blunders  of  the  blindfolded  generations 
preceding  him,  which  arranged  that  to  yield  was  easy 
and  to  resist  difficult.  Had  they  reversed  the  conditions 
and  conclusions,  the  majority  of  the  human  race  would 
have  fought  each  other  to  death,  but  the  selected  rem- 
nant would  have  had  a  better  time  of  it." 

"Let  us  suppose  a  case  as  conditions  now  exist,"  he 
continued  after  a  moment,  as  Chonita  made  no  reply. 


314    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"Assume,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  you  loved  me 
and  that  you  plucked  from  your  nature  your  religion, 
your  fidelity  to  your  house,  your  love  for  your  brother, 
and  gave  yourself  to  me.  You  would  stand  appalled  at 
the  sacrifice  until  you  realized  that  you  had  come  to  me 
only  because  it  would  have  been  more  difficult  to  stay 
away.  You  conquer  the  passionate  cry  of  love — the 
mightiest  in  the  human  compound — and  you  are  miser- 
ably happy  for  the  rest  of  your  life,  no  attitude  being 
so  pleasing  to  the  soul  as  the  attitude  of  martyrdom. 
Many  a  man  and  woman  looks  with  some  impatience  for 
the  last  good-bye  to  be  said,  so  sweet  is  the  prospect  of 
sadness,  of  suffering,  of  resignation. ' ' 

I  was  aghast  at  his  audacity,  but  I  saw  that  Chonita 
was  fascinated.  Her  egoism  was  caressed,  and  her 
womanhood  thrilled.  "Are  we  all  such  shams  as  that?" 
was  what  she  said.  "You  make  me  despise  myself." 

"Not  yourself,  but  a  great  structure — of  which  you 
are  but  a  grain — with  a  faulty  foundation.  Don't  de- 
spise yourself.  Curse  the  builders  that  shoveled  those 
stones  together." 

He  left  her  then,  and  she  told  me  to  go  to  bed;  she 
wanted  to  sit  a  while  and  think. 

"He  makes  you  think  too  much,"  I  said.  "Better 
forget  what  he  says  as  soon  as  you  can.  He  is  a  very 
disturbing  influence. ' ' 

But  she  made  no  reply,  and  sat  there  staring  at  the 
floor.  She  began  to  feel  a  sense  of  helplessness,  like  a 
creature  caught  in  a  net.  It  was  more  the  man's  per- 
sonality than  his  words  which  made  her  feel  as  if  he 
were  pouring  himself  throughout  her,  taking  possession 
of  brain  and  every  sense,  as  though  he  were  a  sort  of 
intellectual  drug. 

"I  believe  I  was  made  from  his  rib,"  she  thought 
angrily, ' t  else  why  can  he  have  this  extraordinary  power 
over  me  ?  I  do  not  love  him.  I  have  read  somewhat  of 
love,  and  seen  more.  This  is  different,  quite.  I  only  feel 
that  there  is  something  in  him  that  I  want.  Sometimes 
I  feel  that  I  must  dig  my  nails  into  him  and  tear  him 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  315 

apart  until  I  find  what  I  want — something  that  belongs 
to  me.  Sometimes  it  is  as  if  he  promised  it,  at  others  as 
if  he  were  unconscious  of  its  existence;  always  it  is 
evanescent.  Is  he  going  to  make  my  mind  his  own? 
And  yet  he  always  seems  to  leave  mine  free.  He  never 
has  snubbed  me.  He  makes  me  think ;  there  is  the  dan- 
ger/' 

An  hour  later  there  was  a  tap  on  her  door.  Casa 
Grande  was  asleep.  She  sat  upright,  her  heart  beating 
rapidly.  Estenega  was  audacious  enough  for  anything. 
But  it  was  her  brother  who  entered. 

"Beinaldo!"  she  exclaimed,  horrified  to  feel  an  un- 
mistakable stab  of  disappointment. 

t '  Yes,  it  is  I.    Are  you  alone  ? ' ' 

"Surely." 

' '  I  have  something  to  say  to  you. ' ' 

He  drew  a  chair  close  to  her  and  sat  down. 

"You  know,  my  sister,"  he  began  haltingly,  "how  I 
hate  the  house  of  Estenega.  My  hatred  is  as  loyal  as 
yours;  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  is  true  to  the 
honor  of  the  house  of  Iturbi  y  Moncada.  But,  my  sister, 
is  it  not  so  that  one  can  sacrifice  himself,  his  mere  per- 
sonal feelings,  upon  the  altar  of  his  country  ?  Is  it  not 
so,  my  sister  V 

"What  is  it  you  wish  me  to  understand,  Reinaldo?" 

"Do  not  look  so  stern,  my  Chonita.  You  have  not 
yet  heard  me;  and,  although  you  may  be  angry  then, 
you  will  reason  later.  You  are  devoted  to  your  house, 
no?" 

"You  have  come  here  in  the  night  to  ask  me  such  a 
question  as  that?" 

"And  thou  lovest  thy  brother?" 

"Keinaldo,  you  have  drunken  more  mescal  than  An- 
gelica. Go  back  to  your  bride. ' '  But  although  she  spoke 
lightly,  she  was  uneasy. 

* '  My  sister,  I  never  drank  a  drop  of  mescal  in  my  life ! 
Listen.  It  is  our  father's  wish,  thy  wish,  my  wish,  that 
I  become  a  great  and  distinguished  man,  an  ornament  to 
the  house  of  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  a  star  on  the  brow  of 


316    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

California.  How  can  I  accomplish  this  great  and  de- 
sirable end  ?  By  the  medium  of  politics  only ;  our  wars 
are  so  insignificant.  I  have  been  debarred  from  the  De- 
partmental Junta  by  the  enemy  of  our  house,  else  would 
it  have  rung  with  my  eloquence,  and  Mexico  have  known 
me  to-day.  Yet  I  care  little  for  the  Junta.  I  wish  to 
go  as  diputado  to  Mexico ;  it  is  a  grander  arena.  More- 
over, in  that  great  capital  I  shall  become  a  man  of  the 
world — which  is  necessary  to  control  men.  That  is  his 
power — curse  him !  And  he — he  will  not  let  me  go  there. 
Even  Alvarado  listens  to  him.  The  Departmental  Junta 
is  under  his  thumb.  I  will  never  be  anything  but  a 
caballero  of  Santa  Barbara — I,  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the 
last  scion  of  a  line  illustrious  in  war,  in  diplomacy,  in 
politics — until  he  is  either  dead — do  not  jump,  my  sister ; 
it  is  not  my  intention  to  murder  him  and  ruin  my  career 
— or  becomes  my  friend. ' ' 

1 1  Can  you  not  put  your  meaning  in  fewer  words  ? ' ' 

"My  sister,  he  loves  thee,  and  thou  lovest  thy  brother 
and  thy  house." 

Chonita  rose  to  her  full  height,  and  although  he  rose 
too,  and  was  taller,  she  seemed  to  look  down  upon  him. 

1 1  You  would  have  me  marry  him  ?  Is  that  your  mean- 
ing?" 

"Ay."  His  voice  trembled.  Under  his  swagger  he 
was  always  a  little  afraid  of  the  Doomswoman. 

"You  ask  perjury  and  disloyalty  and  dishonor  of  an 
Iturbi  y  Moncada. ' ' 

"An  Iturbi  y  Moncada  asks  it  of  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada. If  the  man  is  ready  to  bend  his  neck  in  sacrifice 
to  the  glory  of  his  house  is  it  for  the  woman  to  think  ? ' ' 

Chonita  stood  grasping  the  back  of  her  chair  convul- 
sively; it  was  the  only  sign  of  emotion  she  betrayed. 
She  knew  that  what  he  said  was  true;  that  Estenega, 
for  public  and  personal  reasons,  never  would  let  him  go 
to  Mexico;  he  would  permit  no  enemy  at  court.  But 
this  knowledge  drifted  through  her  mind  and  out  of  it 
at  the  moment;  she  was  struggling  to  hold  down  a  hot 
wave  of  contempt  rushing  upward  within  her.  She 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  317 

clung  to  her  traditions  as  frantically  as  she  clung  to  her 
religion. 

' '  Go ! ' '  she  said,  after  a  moment. 

''Thou  wilt  think  of  what  I  have  said?" 

"I  shall  pray  to  forget  it." 

"Chonita !"  his  voice  rang  out  so  loud  that  she  placed 
her  hand  on  his  mouth.  He  dashed  it  away.  "Thou 
wilt!"  he  cried,  like  a  spoiled  child.  "Thou  wilt!  I 
shall  go  to  the  city  of  Mexico,  and  only  thou  canst  send 
me  there.  All  my  father's  gold  and  leagues  will  not 
buy  me  a  seat  in  the  Mexican  Congress,  unless  this  ac- 
cursed Estenega  lifts  his  hand  and  says,  'You  may.' 
Holy  God!  how  I  hate  him!  Would  that  I  had  the 
chance  to  murder  him!  I  would  cut  his  heart  out  to- 
morrow. And  my  father  likes  him,  and  has  outlived  ran- 
cor. And  thou — thou  are  not  indifferent." 

"Go!" 

He  threw  his  arms  about  her,  kissing  and  caressing 
her.  ' '  My  sister !  My  sister !  Thou  wilt !  Say  that  thou 
wilt !  ' '  But  she  flung  him  off  as  if  he  were  a  snake. 

"Will  you  go?"  she  asked. 

"Ay!  I  go.  But  he  shall  suffer.  I  swear  it!  I 
swear  it ! "  And  he  rushed  from  the  room. 

Chonita  sat  there,  staring  more  fixedly  at  the  floor 
than  when  Estenega  had  left  her. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

REINALDO  did  not  go  to  his  Prudencia.  He  went  down 
to  the  booths  in  the  town  and  joined  the  late  revelers. 
Don  Guillermo,  rising  before  dawn,  and  walking  up  and 
down  the  corridor  to  combat  the  pangs  of  Dona  Trini- 
dad 's  dulces,  noticed  that  the  door  of  his  son 's  room,  was 
ajar.  He  paused  before  it,  and  heard  slow,  regular, 
patient  sobs.  He  opened  the  door  and  went  in.  Pru- 
dencia, alone,  curled  up  in  a  far  corner  of  her  bed,  the 
clothes  over  her  head,  was  bemoaning  many  things  inci- 
dental to  matrimony.  As  she  heard  the  sound  of  heavy 
steps  she  gave  a  little  shriek. 

"  It  is  I,  Prudencia, ' '  said  her  uncle.  1 1  Where  is  Rein- 
aldo?" 

' '  I— do— not— know. ' ' 

"Did  he  not  come  from  the  ballroom  with  thee?" 

"N-o-o-o-o." 

"Dost  thou  know  where  he  has  gone?7' 

"N-o-o-o,  senor." 

"Art  thou  afraid?" 

"Ay!    God— of— my— life! " 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "Go  to  sleep. 
Thy  uncle  will  protect  thee,  and  this  shall  not  happen 
again. ' ' 

He  seated  himself  by  the  bedside.  Prudencia 's  sobs 
ceased  gradually,  and  she  fell  asleep.  An  hour  later  the 
door  opened  softly,  and  Reinaldo  entered.  In  spite  of 
the  mescal  in  him,  his  knees  shook  as  he  saw  the  indul- 
gent but  stern  arbiter  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncada  desti- 
nies sitting  in  judgment  at  the  bedside  of  his  wife. 

""Where  have  you  been,  sir?" 

"To  take  a  walk — to  see  to " 

"No  lying!     It  makes  no  difference  where  you  have 

318 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  319 

been.  What  I  want  to  know  is  this :  Is  it  your  duty  to 
gallivant  about  town?  or  is  your  place  at  this  hour  be- 
side your  wife?'* 

"Here,  sefior." 

The  old  man  rose,  and,  seizing  the  bridegroom  by  the 
shoulders,  shook  him  until  his  teeth  clattered  together. 
"Then  see  that  you  stay  here  with  her  in  future,  or 
you  shall  no  longer  be  a  married  man. ' '  And  he  stamped 
out  and  slammed  the  door  behind  him. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

spent  the  next  day  at  the  race-field.  Many  of  the 
caballeros  had  brought  their  finest  horses,  and  Reinaldo  's 
were  famous.  The  vaqueros  threw  off  their  black  glazed 
sombreros  and  black  velvet  jackets,  wearing  only  the 
short  black  trousers  laced  with  silver,  a  shirt  of  dazzling 
whiteness,  a  silk  handkerchief  twisted  about  the  head, 
and  huge  spurs  on  their  bare  brown  heels.  Some  of  us 
stood  on  a  platform,  others  remained  on  their  horses; 
all  were  wild  with  excitement,  and  screamed  themselves 
hoarse.  The  great  dark  eyes  of  the  girls  flashed,  their 
red  mouths  trembled  with  the  flood  of  eager  exclama- 
tions; the  lace  mantilla  or  flowered  reboso  fluttered 
against  hot  cheeks,  to  be  torn  off,  perhaps,  and  waved  in 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment.  They  forgot  the  men, 
and  the  men  forgot  them.  Even  Chonita  was  oblivious 
to  all  else  for  the  hour.  She  was  a  famous  horsewoman, 
and  keenly  alive  to  the  enchantment  of  the  race-field. 
The  men  bet  their  ranches,  whole  caponeras  of  their 
finest  horses,  herds  of  cattle,  their  saddles  and  their 
jewels.  Estenega  won  largely,  and,  as  it  happened,  from 
Reinaldo  particularly.  Don  Guillermo  was  rather  pleased 
than  otherwise,  holding  his  son  to  be  in  need  of  further 
punishment;  but  Reinaldo  was  obliged  to  call  upon  all 
the  courtesy  of  the  Spaniard  and  all  the  falseness  of  his 
nature  to  help  him  remember  that  his  enemy  was  his 
guest. 

We  went  home  to  siesta  and  a  long  gay  supper,  where 
the  races  were  the  only  topic  of  conversation;  then  to 
dance  and  sing  and  flirt  until  midnight,  the  people  in 
the  booths  as  tireless  as  ourselves.  Valencia's  attentions 
to  Estenega  were  as  conspicuous  as  usual,  but  he  man- 
aged to  devote  most  of  his  time  to  Chonita. 


320 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  321 

That  night  Chonita  had  a  dream.  She  dreamed  that 
she  awoke  without  a  soul.  The  sense  of  vacancy  was  aw- 
ful, yet  there  was  a  singular  undercurrent  of  conscious- 
ness that  no  soul  ever  had  been  within  her — that  it  ex- 
isted, but  was  yet  to  be  found. 

She  arose,  trembling,  and  opened  her  door.  Santa 
Barbara  was  as  quiet  as  all  the  world  is  in  the  chill  last 
hours  of  night.  She  half  expected  to  see  something  hover 
before  her,  a  will-o  '-the-wisp,  alluring  her  over  the  rocky 
valleys  and  towering  mountains  until  death  gave  her 
weary  feet  rest.  She  remembered  vaguely  that  she  had 
read  legends  of  that  purport. 

But  there  was  nothing — not  even  the  glow  of  a  late 
cigarito  nor  the  flash  of  a  falling  star.  Still  she  seemed 
to  know  where  the  soul  awaited  her.  She  closed  her  door 
softly  and  walked  swiftly  down  the  corridor,  her  bare 
feet  making  no  sound  on  the  boards.  At  a  door  on  the 
opposite  side  she  paused,  shaking  violently,  but  unable 
to  pass  it.  She  opened  the  door  and  went  in.  The  room, 
like  all  the  others  in  that  time  of  festivity,  had  more 
occupants  than  was  its  wont;  a  bed  was  in  each  corner. 
The  shutters  and  windows  were  open,  the  moonlight 
streamed  in,  and  she  saw  that  all  were  asleep.  She 
crossed  the  room  and  looked  down  upon  Diego  Estenega. 
His  night  garment,  low  about  the  throat,  made  his  head, 
with  his  sharply  cut  profile,  look  like  the  heads  on  old 
Roman  medallions.  The  pallor  of  night,  the  extreme  re- 
finement of  his  face,  the  deep  repose,  gave  him  an  un- 
mortal  appearance.  Chonita  bent  over  him  fearfully. 
"Was  he  dead?  His  breathing  was  regular,  but  very 
quiet.  She  stood  gazing  down  upon  him,  the  instinct  of 
seeking  vanished.  What  did  it  mean?  Was  this  her 
soul?  A  man?  How  could  it  be?  Even  in  poetry  she 
never  had  read  of  a  man  being  a  woman's  soul — a  man 
with  all  his  frailties  and  sins,  for  the  most  part  unre- 
pented.  She  felt,  rather  than  knew,  that  Estenega  had 
trampled  many  laws,  and  that  he  cared  too  little  for  any 
law  but  his  own  will  to  repent.  And  yet,  there  he  lay, 
looking,  in  the  gray  light  and  the  impersonality  of  sleep, 


322    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

as  sinless  as  if  he  had  been  created  within  the  hour.  He 
looked,  not  like  a  man,  but  a  spirit — a  soul ;  and  the  soul 
was  hers. 

Again  she  asked  herself,  what  did  it  mean  ?  Was  the 
soul  but  brain?  She  and  he  were  so  alike  in  elements, 
yet  he  so  immeasurably  beyond  her  in  experience  and 
knowledge  and  the  stronger  fiber  of  a  man 's  mind 

He  awoke  suddenly  and  saw  her.  For  a  moment  he 
stared  incredulously,  then  raised  himself  on  his  hand. 

"Chonita!"  he  whispered. 

But  Chonita,  with  the  long  glide  of  the  Californian 
woman,  vanished  from  the  room. 

When  she  awoke  the  next  morning  she  was  assailed  by 
a  distressing  fear.  Had  she  been  to  Estenega's  room 
the  night  before?  The  memory  was  too  vivid,  the  de- 
tails too  practical,  for  a  sleep-vagary.  At  breakfast  she 
hardly  dared  to  raise  her  eyes.  She  felt  that  he  was 
watching  her;  but  he  often  watched  her.  After  break- 
fast they  were  alone  at  one  end  of  the  corridor  for  a 
moment,  and  she  compelled  herself  to  raise  her  eyes  and 
look  at  him  steadily.  He  was  regarding  her  searchingly. 

She  was  not  a  woman  to  endure  uncertainty. 

1  i  Tell  me, ' '  she  cried,  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  the 
blood  flying  over  her  face,  "did  I  go  to  your  room  last 
night  ?" 

"Dona  Chonita!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  an  extraor- 
dinary question!  You  have  been  dreaming. " 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

WE  went  to  a  bull-fight  that  day,  danced  that  night, 
meriendaed  and  danced  again ;  a  siesta  in  the  afternoon, 
a  few  hours '  sleep  in  the  night  refreshing  us  all.  Chonita 
alone  looked  pale,  but  I  knew  that  her  pallor  was  not 
due  to  weariness.  And  I  knew  that  she  was  beginning 
to  fear  Estenega;  the  time  was  almost  come  when  she 
would  fear  herself  more.  Estenega  had  several  talks 
apart  with  her.  He  managed  it  without  any  apparent 
maneuvering;  but  he  always  had  the  devil's  methods. 
Valencia  avenged  herself  by  flirting  desperately  with 
Reinaldo,  and  Prudencia  's  honeymoon  was  seasoned  with 
gall. 

On  Saturday  night  Chonita  stole  from  her  guests, 
donned  a  black  gown  and  reboso,  and,  attended  by  two 
Indian  servants,  went  up  to  the  Mission  to  confession. 
As  she  left  the  church  half  an  hour  later,  and  came  down 
the  steps,  Estenega  rose  from  a  bench  beneath  the  arches 
of  the  corridor  and  joined  her. 

"How  did  you  know  that  I  came?"  she  asked;  and  it 
was  not  the  stars  that  lit  her  face. 

"You  do  little  that  I  do  not  know.  Have  you  been  to 
confession  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

They  walked  slowly  down  the  valley. 

"And  you  forgave  and  were  forgiven?" 

"Yes.    Ay!  but  my  penance  is  heavy!" 

"But  when  it  is  done  you  will  be  at  rest,  I  sup- 
pose. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  hope!    I  hope!" 

"Have  you  begun  to  realize  that  your  Church  cannot 
satisfy  you?" 

"No!  I  will  not  say  that." 

323 


324    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"But  you  know  it.  Your  intelligence  has  opened  a 
window  somewhere,  and  the  truth  has  crept  through  it." 

'  *  Do  not  take  my  religion  from  me,  senor ! ' '  Her  eyes 
and  voice  appealed  to  him,  and  he  accepted  her  first  con- 
fession of  weakness  with  a  throb  of  exulting  tenderness. 

"My  love!"  he  said,  "I  would  give  you  more  than  I 
took  from  you." 

"No!  never! Even  if  we  were  not  enemies,  and 

I  had  not  made  that  terrible  vow,  my  religion  has  been 
all  in  all  to  me.  Just  now  I  have  many  things  that  tor- 
ment me ;  and  I  have  asked  so  little  of  religion  before — 
my  life  has  been  so  calm — that  now  I  hardly  know  how 
to  ask  for  so  much  more.  I  shall  learn.  Leave  me 
peace. ' ' 

' l  Do  you  want  me  to  go  ?"  he  asked.  ' '  If  you  did — if 
I  troubled  you  by  staying  here — I  believe  I  would  go. 
Only  I  know  it  would  do  no  good ;  I  should  come  back. ' ' 

"  No !  no !  I  do  not  want  you  to  go.  I  should  feel — 
I  will  admit  to  you — like  a  house  without  its  founda- 
tion. And  yet  sometimes  I  pray  that  you  will  go.  Ay ! 
I  do  not  like  life.  I  used  to  have  pride  in  my  intelli- 
gence. Where  is  my  pride  now?  What  good  has  the 
wisdom  in  my  books  done  me,  when  I  confess  my  de- 
pendence upon  a  man,  and  that  man  my  enemy — and 
the  acquaintance  of  a  few  weeks?"  She  was  speaking 
incoherently,  and  Estenega  chafed  at  the  restraint  of  the 
servants  so  close  behind  them.  "Tell  me,"  she  ex- 
claimed, ' '  what  is  it  in  you  that  I  want  ? — that  I  need  ? 
It  is  something  that  belongs  to  me.  Give  it  to  me,  and 
go  away." 

"Chonita,  I  give  it  to  you  gladly,  God  knows.  But 
you  must  take  me,  too.  You  want  in  me  what  is  akin 
to  you  and  what  you  will  find  nowhere  else.  But  I  can- 
not tear  my  soul  out  of  my  body.  You  must  take  both 
or  neither." 

"Ay!    I  cannot!    You  know  that  I  cannot!" 

' '  I  ignore  your  reasons. ' ' 

"But  I  do  not." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  325 

"You  shall,  my  beloved.  Or  if  you  do  not  ignore  you 
shall  forget  them." 

"When  I  am  dead — would  that  I  were!"  She  was 
excited  and  trembling.  The  confession  had  been  an  or- 
deal, and  Estenega  was  never  tranquilizing.  She  wished 
to  cling  to  him,  but  was  still  mistress  of  herself.  He 
divined  her  impulse,  and  drew  her  arm  through  his  and 
across  his  breast.  He  opened  her  hand  and  pressed  his 
lips  to  the  palm.  Then  he  bent  his  face  above  hers. 
She  was  trembling  violently;  her  face  was  wild  and 
white.  His  own  was  ashen,  and  the  heart  beneath  her 
arm  beat  rapidly. 

"I  love  you  devotedly,"  he  said.  "You  believe  that, 
Chonita?" 

"  Ah !  Mother  of  God !  do  not !    I  cannot  listen. ' ' 

"But  you  shall  listen.  Throw  off  your  superstitions 
and  come  to  me.  Keep  the  part  of  your  religion  that  is 
not  superstition ;  I  would  be  the  last  to  take  it  from  you ; 
but  I  will  not  permit  its  barnacles  to  stand  between  us. 
As  for  your  traditions,  you  have  not  even  the  excuse  of 
filial  duty ;  your  father  would  not  forbid  you  to  become 
my  wife.  And  I  love  you  very  earnestly  and  passion- 
ately. Just  how  much,  I  might  convey  to  you  if  we 
were  alone." 

He  was  obliged  to  exercise  great  self-restraint,  but 
there  was  no  mistaking  his  seriousness.  When  such  sci- 
entific triflers  do  find  a  woman  worth  loving,  they  are 
too  deeply  sensible  of  the  fact  not  to  be  stirred  to  their 
depths;  and  their  depths  are  likely  to  be  in  large  dis- 
proportion to  the  lightness  of  their  ordinary  mood. 
' '  Come  to  me, ' '  he  continued.  ' '  I  need  you ;  and  I  will 
be  as  tender  and  thoughtful  a  husband  as  I  will  be  ardent 
as  a  lover.  You  love  me ;  don 't  blind  yourself  any  longer. 
Do  you  picture,  in  a  life  of  solitude  and  cold  devotion 
to  phantoms,  any  happiness  equal  to  what  you  would 
find  here  in  my  arms  ? ' ' 

* '  Oh,  hush !  hush !  You  could  make  me  do  what  you 
wished.  I  have  no  will.  I  feel  no  longer  myself.  WTiat 
is  this  terrible  power?" 


326    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

"It  is  the  magnetism  of  love;  that  is  all.  I  am  not 
exercising  any  diabolical  power  over  you.  Listen;  I 
will  not  trouble  you  any  more  now.  I  am  obliged  to  go 
to  Los  Angeles  the  day  after  to-morrow.  On  my  way 
back  to  Monterey — in  about  two  weeks — I  shall  come 
here  again.  Then  we  will  talk  together ;  but  I  warn  you, 
I  shall  accept  only  one  answer.  You  are  mine,  and  I 
shall  have  you." 

They  reached  Casa  Grande  a  moment  later,  and  she 
escaped  from  him  and  ran  to  her  room.  But  she  dared 
not  remain  alone.  Hastily  changing  her  black  gown  for 
the  first  her  hand  touched — it  happened  to  be  vivid  red, 
and  made  her  look  as  white  as  wax — she  returned  to 
the  sala,  not  to  dance  even  the  square  contradanza,  but 
to  stand  surrounded  by  worshiping  caballeros  with  curl- 
ing hair  tied  with  gay  ribbons,  and  jewels  in  their  laces. 
Valencia  regarded  her  with  a  bitter  jealousy  that  was 
rising  from  red  heat  to  white.  How  dared  a  woman  with 
hair  of  gold  wear  the  color  of  the  brunette?  It  was  a 
theft.  It  was  the  last  indignity.  And  once  more  she 
chained  Reinaldo,  in  default  of  Estenega,  to  her  side. 
And  deep  in  Prudencia's  heart  wove  a  scheme  of  venge- 
ance ;  the  loom  and  warp  had  been  presented  unwittingly 
by  her  chivalrous  father-in-law. 

Estenega  remained  in  the  sala  a  few  moments  after 
Chonita's  reappearance,  then  left  the  house  and  wan- 
dered through  the  booth  in  the  court,  where  the  people 
were  dancing  and  singing  and  eating  and  gambling  as  if 
with  the  morrow  an  eternal  Lent  would  come,  and  thence 
through  the  silent  town  to  the  pleasure-grounds  of  Casa 
Grande,  which  lay  about  half  a  mile  from  the  house.  He 
had  been  there  but  a  short  while  when  he  heard  a  rustle, 
a  light  footfall.  Turning,  he  saw  Chonita,  unattended, 
her  bare  neck  and  gold  hair  gleaming  against  the  dark, 
her  train  dragging.  She  was  advancing  swiftly  toward 
him.  His  pulses  bounded,  and  he  sprang  toward  her,  his 
arms  outstretched ;  but  she  waved  him  back. 

' '  Have  mercy, ' '  she  said.    "  I  am  alone.    I  brought  no 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  327 

one,  because  I  have  that  to  tell  you  which  no  one  else 
must  hear. ' ' 

He  stepped  hack  and  looked  at  the  ground. 

"Listen,"  she  said.  "I  could  not  wait  until  to-mor- 
row, because  a  moment  lost  might  mean — might  mean 
the  ruin  of  your  career,  and  you  say  your  envoy  has  not 
gone  yet.  Just  now — I  will  tell  you  the  other  first. 
Mother  of  God !  that  I  should  betray  my  brother  to  my 
enemy!  But  it  seems  to  me  right,  because  you  placed 
your  confidence  in  me,  and  I  should  feel  that  I  betrayed 
you  if  I  did  not  warn  you.  I  do  not  know — oh,  Mary ! — 
I  do  not  know — but  this  seems  to  me  right.  The  other 
night  my  brother  came  to  me  and  asked  me — ay !  do  not 
look  at  me — to  marry  you,  that  you  would  balk  his  am- 
bition no  further.  He  wishes  to  go  as  diputado  to  Mex- 
ico, and  he  knows  that  you  will  not  let  him.  I  thought 
my  brain  would  crack — an  Iturbi  y  Moncada! — I  made 
him  no  answer — there  was  no  answer  to  a  demand  like 
that — and  he  went  from  me  in  a  fury,  vowing  venge- 
ance upon  you.  To-night,  a  few  moments  ago,  he  whis- 
pered to  me  that  he  knew  of  your  plans,  your  intentions 
regarding  the  Americans ;  he  had  overheard  a  conversa- 
tion between  you  and  Alvarado.  He  says  that  he  will 
send  letters  to  Mexico  to-morrow,  warning  the  govern- 
ment against  you.  Then  their  suspicions  will  be  roused, 
and  they  will  inquire Ay,  Mary!" 

Estenega  brought  his  teeth  together.  ' '  God ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. 

She  saw  that  he  had  forgotten  her.  She  turned  and 
went  back  more  swiftly  than  she  had  come. 

Estenega  was  a  man  whose  resources  never  failed  him. 
He  returned  to  the  house  and  asked  Reinaldo  to  smoke 
a  cigarito  and  drink  a  bottle  of  wine  with  him  in  his 
room.  Then,  without  a  promise  or  a  compromising  word, 
he  so  flattered  that  shallow  youth,  so  allured  his  ambi- 
tion and  pampered  his  vanity  and  watered  his  hopes, 
that  fear  and  hatred  wondered  at  their  existence,  closed 
their  eyes,  and  went  to  sleep.  Reinaldo  poured  forth 
his  aspirations,  which  under  the  influence  of  the  truth- 


328    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

provoking  vine  proved  to  be  an  honest  yearning  for  the 
pleasures  of  Mexico.  As  he  rose  to  go  he  toew  his 
arm  about  Estenega's  neck. 

"Ay !  my  friend !  my  friend!'7  he  cried,  "thou  art  all- 
powerful.  Thou  alone  canst  give  me  what  I  want. ' ' 

"Why  did  you  never  ask  me  for  what  you  wanted?" 
asked  Estenega.  And  he  thought,  "If  it  were  not  for 
Her,  you  would  be  on  your  way  to  Los  Angeles  to-night 
under  charge  of  high  treason.  I  would  not  have  taken 
this  much  trouble  with  you." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

A  RODEO  was  held  the  next  day — the  last  of  the  festivi- 
ties— Don  Guillermo  taking  advantage  of  the  gathering 
of  the  rancheros.  It  was  to  take  place  on  the  Cerros 
Eancho,  which  adjoined  the  Rancho  de  las  Rocas.  We 
went  early,  most  of  us  dismounting  and  taking  to  the 
platform  on  one  side  of  the  circular  rodeo-ground.  The 
vaqueros  were  already  galloping  over  the  hills,  shouting 
and  screaming  to  the  cattle,  that  ran  to  them  like  dogs ; 
soon  a  herd  came  rushing  down  into  the  circle,  where 
they  were  thrown  down  and  branded,  the  stray  cattle 
belonging  to  neighbors  separated  and  corralled.  This 
happened  again  and  again,  the  interest  and  excitement 
growing  with  each  round-up. 

Once  a  bull,  seeing  his  chance,  darted  from  his  herd 
and  down  the  valley.  A  vaquero  started  after  him ;  but 
Reinaldo,  anxious  to  display  his  skill  in  horsemanship, 
and  being  still  mounted,  called  to  the  vaquero  to  stop, 
dashed  after  the  animal,  caught  it  by  its  tail,  spurred 
his  horse  ahead,  let  go  the  tail  at  the  right  moment,  and, 
amid  shouts  of  ' '  Coliar ! "  ' '  Coliar ! "  the  bull  was  igno- 
miniously  rolled  in  the  dust,  then  meekly  preceded  Rein- 
aldo back  to  the  rodeo-ground. 

After  the  dinner  under  the  trees  most  of  the  party  re- 
turned to  the  platform;  but  Estenega,  Adan,  Chonita, 
Valencia,  and  myself  strolled  about  the  rancho.  Adan 
walked  at  Chonita 's  side,  more  faithful  than  her  shadow. 
Valencia's  black  eyes  flashed  their  language  so  plainly 
to  Estenega  '&  that  he  could  not  have  deserted  her  with- 
out rudeness;  and  Estenega  never  was  rude. 

"Adan,"  said  Chonita  abruptly,  "I  am  tired  of  you. 
Sit  down  under  that  tree  until  I  come  back.  I  wish  to 
walk  alone  with  Eustaquia  for  a  while." 

329 


330    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Adan  sighed  and  did  as  he  was  bidden,  consoling  him- 
self with  a  cigarito.  Taking  a  different  path  from  the 
one  the  others  followed,  we  walked  some  distance,  talk- 
ing of  ordinary  matters,  both  avoiding  the  subject  of 
Diego  Estenega  by  common  consent.  And  yet  I  was 
convinced  that  she. carried  on  a  substratum  of  thought 
of  which  he  was  the  object,  even  while  she  talked  coher- 
ently to  me.  On  our  way  back  the  conversation  died  for 
want  of  bone  and  muscle,  and,  as  it  happened,  we  were 
both  silent  as  he  approached  a  small  adobe  hut.  As  we 
turned  the  corner  we  came  upon  Estenega  and  Valencia. 
He  had  just  bent  his  head  and  kissed  her. 

Valencia  fled  like  a  hare.  Estenega  turned  the  hue  of 
chalk,  and  I  knew  that  blue  lightning  was  flashing  in 
his  disconcerted  brain.  I  could  feel  the  chill  of  Chonita 
as  she  lifted  herself  to  the  rigidity  of  a  statue  and  swept 
slowly  down  the  path. 

" Diego,  you  are  a  fool!"  I  exclaimed,  when  she  was 
out  of  hearing. 

1 1  You  need  not  tell  me  that, ' '  he  said  savagely.  '  *  But 

what  in  Heaven's  name Well,  never  mind.  For 

God's  sake,  straighten  it  out  with  her.  Tell  her — ex- 
plain to  her — what  men  are.  Tell  her  that  the  present 
woman  is  omnipresent — no,  don 't  tell  her  that.  Tell  her 
that  history  is  full  of  instances  of  men  who  have  given 
one  woman  the  devoted  love  of  a  lifetime  and  been  un- 
faithful to  her  every  week  in  the  year.  Explain  to  her 
that  a  man  to  love  one  woman  must  love  all  women.  Tell 
her  that  a  man  often  marries  a  woman  out  of  politeness, 
or  absent-mindedly,  when  he  is  thinking  of  another 
woman.  And  she  has  sufficient  proof  that  I  love  her  and 
no  other  woman;  I  want  to  marry  her,  not  Valencia 
Menendez.  Heaven  knows  I  will  be  true  to  her  when  I 
have  her.  I  could  not  be  otherwise.  But  I  need  not 
explain  to  you.  Set  it  right  with  her.  She  has  brain; 
she  can  be  made  to  understand." 

I  shook  my  head.  "You  cannot  reason  with  inex- 
perience; and  when  it  is  allied  to  jealousy — God  of  my 
soul!  Her  ideal,  of  course,  is  perfection,  and  does  not 


THE  DOOMSWOMAIST  331 

take  human  weakness  into  account.  You  have  fallen 
short  of  it  to-day.  I  fear  your  cause  is  lost. ' ' 

11  It  is  not!  Do  you  think  I  will  give  her  up  for  a 
trifle  like  that?" 

' '  But  why  not  accept  this  break  ?  You  cannot  marry 
her " 

"Oh,  do  not  return  to  that  nonsense!"  he  exclaimed 
harshly.  "I  shall  peel  off  her  traditions  when  the  time 
comes,  as  I  would  strip  off  the  outer  hulls  of  a  nut.  Go ! 
Go,  Eustaquia!" 

Of  course  I  went.  Chonita  was  not  at  the  rodeo: 
ground,  but,  escorted  by  her  father,  had  gone  home.  I 
followed  immediately,  and  when  I  reached  Casa  Grande 
I  found  her  sitting  in  her  library.  I  never  saw  a  statue 
look  more  like  marble.  Her  face  was  locked;  only  the 
eyes  betrayed  the  soul  in  torment.  But  she  looked  as 
immutable  as  a  fate. 

"Chonita,"  I  exclaimed,  hardly  knowing  where  to 
begin,  "be  reasonable.  Men  of  Estenega's  brain  and 
passionate  affectionate  nature  are  always  weak  with 
women,  but  it  means  nothing.  He  cares  nothing  for 
Valencia  Menendez.  He  is  madly  in  love  with  you.  And 
his  weakness,  my  dear,  springs  from  the  same  source  as 
his  charm.  He  would  not  be  the  man  he  is  without  it. 
His  heart  would  be  less  kindly,  his  impulses  less  gener- 
ous, his  brain  less  virile,  his  sympathies  less  instinctive 
and  true.  The  strong  impregnable  man,  the  man  whom 
no  vice  tempts,  no  weakness  assails,  who  is  loyal  without 
effort — such  a  man  lacks  breadth  and  magnetism  and 
the  power  to  read  the  human  heart  and  sympathize 
with  both  its  noble  impulses  and  its  terrible  weaknesses. 
Such  men — I  never  have  known  it  to  fail — are  full  of 
petty  vanities  and  egoisms  and  contemptible  weaknesses, 
the  like  of  which  Estenega  could  not  be  capable  of.  No 
man  can  be  perfect,  and  it  is  the  man  of  great  strength 
and  great  weakness  who  alone  understands  and  sym- 
pathizes with  human  nature,  who  is  lovable  and  mag- 
netic, and  who  has  the  power  to  rouse  the  highest  as 
well  as  the  most  passionate  love  of  a  woman.  Such  men 


332    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

cause  infinite  suffering,  but  they  can  give  a  happiness 
that  makes  the  suffering  worth  while.  You  will  never 
meet  another  man  like  Diego  Estenega.  Do  not  cast  him 
lightly  aside. " 

"Do  I  understand,"  said  Chonita,  in  a  perfectly  un- 
moved voice,  "that  you  are  counseling  me  to  marry  an 
Estenega  and  the  man  who  would  send  me  to  hell  here- 
after? Do  you  forget  my  vow?" 

I  came  to  myself  with  a  shock.  In  the  enthusiasm  of 
my  defense  I  had  forgotten  the  situation. 

"At  least  forgive  him,"  I  said  rather  lamely. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  she  said.  "He  is  noth- 
ing to  me. ' ' 

I  knew  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  with  her. 

"I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,"  she  said.  "Most  of 
our  guests  leave  this  afternoon;  will  you  let  me  sleep 
alone  to-night?" 

I  should  have  liked  to  put  my  arm  about  her  and  give 
her  a  woman 's  sympathy,  but  I  did  not  dare.  All  I  could 
do  was  to  leave  her  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

CASA  GRANDE  held  three  jealous  women.  The  drama 
had  its  comic  interpolations,  but  was  tragic  enough  to 
the  actors. 

In  the  evening  the  lingering  guests  of  the  house  and 
the  neighbors  of  the  town  assembled  as  usual  for  the 
dance.  Only  Estenega  absented  himself.  Valencia  stood 
her  ground;  she  would  not  go  while  Estenega  remained 
in  Santa  Barbara.  Chonita  moved  proudly  among  her 
guests,  and  never  had  been  more  gracious. '  Valencia 
dared  not  meet  her  eyes  nor  mine,  but,  seeing  that  Pru- 
dencia  was  watching  her,  avenged  her  own  disquiet  by 
enhancing  that  of  the  bride.  Never  did  she  flirt  so  im- 
periously with  Reinaldo,  as  she  did  that  fateful  night, 
and  Reinaldo,  wlio  was  man's  vanity  collected  and  com- 
pounded, devoted  himself  to  the  dashing  beauty.  Her 
cheeks  burned  "with  excitement,  her  eyes  were  restless 
and  flashing. 

The  music  stopped.  The  women  were  eating  the  dulces 
passed  by  the  Indian  servants.  The  men  had  not  yet 
gone  into  the  dining-room.  Valencia  dropped  her  hand- 
kerchief; Reinaldo,  kneeling  to  recover  it,  kissed  her 
hand  behind  its  flimsy  shelter. 

Then  Prudencia  arose.  She  trailed  her  long  gown 
down  the  room  between  the  two  rows  of  people  staring 
at  her  grim  eyes  and  pressed  lips;  her  little  head,  with 
its  high  comb,  stiffly  erect.  She  walked  straight  up  to 
Reinaldo,  and  boxed  his  ears  before  the  assembled  com- 
pany. 

' '  Thou  wilt  flirt  no  more  with  other  women, ' '  she  said, 
in  a  loud  clear  voice.  * '  Thou  art  my  husband,  and  thou 
wilt  not  forget  it  again.  Come  with  me. '  ' 

And,  amid  the  silence  of  mountain-tops  in  a  snow- 

333 


334    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

storm,  he  stumbled  to  his  feet  and  followed  her  from 
the  room. 

I  could  not  sleep  that  night.  In  spite  of  the  amuse- 
ment I  had  felt  at  Prudencia's  coup-d'etat,  I  was  op- 
pressed by  the  chill  and  foreboding  which  seemed  to 
emanate  from  Chonita  and  pervade  the  house.  I  knew 
that  terrible  calm  was  like  the  menacing  stillness  of  the 
hours  before  an  earthquake.  What  would  she  do  in 
the  coming  convulsion  ?  I  shuddered  and  tormented  my- 
self with  many  imaginings. 

I  became  so  nervous  that  I  rose  and  dressed,  and  went 
out  upon  the  corridor  and  walked  up  and  down.  It  was 
very  late,  and  the  moon  was  risen,  but  the  corners  were 
dark.  Figures  seemed  to  start  from  them,  but  my 
nerves  were  strong ;  I  never  had  given  way  to  fear. 

My  thoughts  wandered  to  Estenega.  Who  shall  judge 
the  complex  heart  of  a  man  ?  the  deep  intense  lasting  de- 
votion he  may  have  for  the  one  woman  he  recognizes  as 
his  soul's  own,  and  yet  the  strange  wayward  wanderings 
of  his  fancy,  the  nomadic  assertion  of  the  animal;  the 
passionate  love  he  may  feel  for  this  woman  of  all  women, 
yet  the  reserve  in  which  he  always  holds  her,  never  know- 
ing her  quite  as  well  as  he  has  known  other  women ;  the 
last  test  of  highest  love,  passion  without  sensuality  ?  And 
yet  the  regret  that  she  does  not  gratify  every  side  of 
his  nature,  even  while  he  would  not  have  her;  regret 
for  the  terrible  incongruity  of  human  nature,  the  min- 
gling of  the  beast  and  the  divine,  which  cannot  find  satis- 
faction in  the  same  woman ;  whatever  the  fire  in  her,  she 
cannot  gratify  the  instincts  which  rage  below  passion  in 
man  without  losing  the  purity  of  mind  that  he  adores 
in  her.  She,  too,  feels  a  vague  regret  that  some  part 
of  his  nature  is  a  sealed  book  to  her,  for  ever  beyond  her 
ken.  But  her  regret  is  nothing  to  his;  he  knows,  and 
she  does  not. 

My  meditations  were  interrupted  suddenly.  I  heard 
a  door  stealthily  opened.  I  knew  before  turning 
that  the  door  was  Chonita 's,  the  last  at  the  end  of 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  335 

the  right  wing.  It  opened,  and  she  came  out.  It  was 
as  if  a  face  alone  came  out.  She  was  shrouded  from 
head  to  foot  in  black,  and  her  face  was  as  white  as  the 
moon.  Possessed  by  a  nameless  but  overwhelming  fear, 
I  turned  the  knob  of  the  door  nearest  me  and  almost  fell 
into  the  room.  I  closed  the  door  behind  me,  but  there 
was  no  key.  By  the  strip  of  white  light  which  entered 
through  the  crevice  between  the  half-open  shutters  I 
saw  that  I  was  in  the  room  of  Valencia  Menendez ;  but 
she  slept  soundly  and  had  not  heard  me. 

I  stood  still,  listening  for  many  minutes.  At  first 
there  was  no  sound;  I  evidently  had  startled  her,  and 
she  was  waiting  for  the  house  to  be  still  again.  At  last 
I  heard  some  one  gliding  down  the  corridor.  Then,  sud- 
denly, I  knew  that  she  was  coming  to  this  room,  and, 
possessed  by  a  horrible  curiosity  and  growing  terror,  I 
sank  on  my  knees  in  a  corner. 

The  door  opened  noiselessly,  and  Chonita  entered. 
Again  I  saw  only  her  white  face,  rigid  as  death,  but  the 
eyes  flamed  with  the  terrible  passions  that  her  'soul  had 
flung  up  from  its  depths  at  last.  Then  I  saw  another 
white  object — her  hand.  But  there  was  no  knife  in  it. 
Had  there  been,  I  think  I  should  have  shaken  off  the 
spell  that  controlled  me;  I  never  would  see  murder 
done.  It  was  the  awe  of  the  unknown  that  paralyzed 
my  muscles.  She  bent  over  Valencia,  who  moved  un- 
easily and  cast  her  arms  above  her  head.  I  saw  her 
touch  her  finger  to  the  sleeping  woman's  mouth,  insert- 
ing it  between  the  lips.  Then  she  moved  backward  and 
stood  by  the  head  of  the  bed,  facing  the  window.  She 
raised  herself  to  her  full  height,  and  extended  her  arms 
horizontally.  The  position  gave  her  the  form  of  a  cross 
— a  black  cross,  topped  and  pointed  with  malevolent 
white;  one  hand  was  spread  above  Valencia's  face.  She 
was  the  most  awful  sight  I  ever  beheld.  She  uttered  no 
sound ;  she  scarcely  breathed.  Suddenly,  with  the  curve 
of  a  panther,  her  figure  glided  above  the  unconscious 
woman,  her  open  hand  describing  a  strange  motion ;  then 
she  melted  from  the  room. 


336    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Valencia  awoke,  shrieking. 

"Some  one  has  cursed  me!"  she  cried.    "Mother  of 
God !    Some  one  has  cursed  me ! ' ' 
I  fled  from  the  room,  to  faint  upon  my  own  bed. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

THE  next  morning  Casa  Grande  was  thrown  into  con- 
sternation. Valencia  Menendez  was  in  a  raging  fever, 
and  had  to  be  held  in  her  bed. 

After  breakfast  I  sent  for  Estenega  and  told  him  of 
what  I  had  seen.  In  the  first  place  I  had  to  tell  some 
one,  and  in  the  second  I  thought  to  end  his  infatua- 
tion and  avert  further  trouble.  "You  firebrand!"  I  ex- 
claimed, in  conclusion.  "You  see  the  mischief  you  have 
worked!  You  will  go,  now,  thank  heaven — and  go 
cured. ' ' 

1 '  I  will  go — for  a  time, ' '  he  said.  ' '  This  mood  of  hers 
must  wear  itself  out.  But,  if  I  loved  her  before,  I  wor- 
ship her  now.  She  is  magnificent! — a  woman  with  the 
passions  of  hell  and  the  sweetness  of  an  angel.  She  is 
the  woman  I  have  waited  for  all  my  life — the  only 
woman  I  have  ever  known.  Some  day  I  will  take  her 
in  my  arms  and  tell  her  that  I  understand  her." 

"Diego,"  I  said,  divided  between  despair  and  curi- 
osity, "you  have  fancied  many  women;  wherein  does 
your  feeling  for  Chonita  differ?  How  can  you  be  sure 
that  this  is  love?  What  is  your  idea  of  love?" 

He  sat  down  and  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  spoke 
thoughtfully:  "Love  is  not  passion,  for  one  may  feel 
that  for  many  women;  not  affection,  for  friendship  de- 
mands that.  Not  even  sympathy  and  comradeship ;  one 
can  find  either  with  men.  Nor  all,  for  I  have  felt  all, 
yet  something  was  lacking.  Love  is  the  mysterious  turn- 
ing of  one  heart  to  another  with  the  promise  of  a  mag- 
netic harmony,  a  strange  original  delight,  a  deep  satis- 
faction, a  surety  of  permanence,  which  did  either  heart 
roam  the  world  it  never  would  find  again.  It  is  the 
knowledge  that  did  the  living  body  turn  to  corruption, 

337 


338    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  spirit  within  would  still  hold  and  sway  the  steel  that 
had  rushed  unerringly  to  its  magnet.  It  is  the  knowl- 
edge that  weakness  will  only  arouse  tenderness,  never 
disgust,  as  when  the  fancy  reigns  and  the  heart  sleeps; 
that  faults  will  clothe  themselves  in  the  individuality  of 
the  owner  and  become  treasures  to  the  loving  mind  that 
sees,  but  worships.  It  is  the  development  of  the  high- 
est form  of  selfishness,  the  passionate  and  abiding  desire 
to  sacrifice  one's  self  to  the  happiness  of  one  beloved. 
Above  all,  it  is  the  impossibility  to  cease  to  love,  no  mat- 
ter what  reason,  or  prudence,  or  jealousy,  or  disapproval, 
or  terrible  discoveries  may  dictate.  Let  the  mind  sit  on 
high  and  argue  the  soul's  mate  out  of  doors,  it  will 
rebound,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  like  a  rubber  ball 
when  the  pressure  of  the  finger  is  removed.  As  for  Cho- 
nita,  she  is  the  lost  part  of  me." 

He  left  that  day,  and  without  seeing  Chonita  again. 
Valencia  was  in  wildest  delirium  for  a  week ;  at  the  end 
of  the  second  every  hair  on  her  head,  her  brows,  and 
her  eyelashes  had  fallen.  She  looked  like  a  white  mum- 
my, a  ghastly  pitiful  caricature  of  the  beautiful  woman 
whose  arrows  quivered  in  so  many  hearts.  They  rolled 
her  in  a  blanket  and  took  her  home ;  and  then  I  sought 
Chonita,  who  had  barely  left  her  room  and  never  gone 
to  Valencia 's.  I  told  her  that  I  had  witnessed  the  curse, 
and  described  the  result. 

' '  Have  you  no  remorse  ? "  I  asked. 

"None." 

"You  have  ruined  the  beauty,  the  happiness,  the  for- 
tune, of  another  woman. ' ' 

"I  have  done  what  I  intended." 

"Do  you  realize  that  again  you  have  raised  a  barrier 
between  yourself  and  your  religion?  You  do  not  look 
very  repentant." 

' '  Revenge  is  sweeter  than  religion. ' ' 

Then  in  a  burst  of  anger  I  confessed  that  I  had  told 
Estenega.  For  a  moment  I  thought  her  terrible  hatred 
was  about  to  hurl  its  vengeance  at  me;  but  she  only 
asked : 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  339 

"What  did  he  say?" 

Unwillingly,  I  repeated  it,  but  word  for  word.  And 
as  I  spoke,  her  face  softened,  the  austerity  left  her  fea- 
tures, an  expression  of  passionate  gratitude  came  into 
her  eyes. 

"Did  he  say  that,  Eustaquia?" 

"He  did." 

' '  Say  it  again,  please. ' ' 

I  did  so.  And  then  she  put  her  hands  to  her  face, 
and  cried,  and  cried,  and  cried. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

AT  the  end  of  the  week  Doiia  Trinidad  died  suddenly. 
She  was  sitting  on  the  green  bench,  dispensing  charities, 
when  her  head  fell  back  gently,  and  the  light  went  out. 
No  death  ever  had  been  more  peaceful,  no  soul  ever  had 
been  better  prepared;  but  wailing  grief  went  after  her. 
Poor  Don  Guillermo  sank  in  a  heap  as  if  some  one  had 
felled  him,  Eeinaldo  wept  loudly,  and  Prudencia  was 
not  to  be  consoled.  Chonita  was  away  on  her  horse  when 
it  happened,  galloping  over  the  hills.  Servants  were  sent 
for  her  immediately,  and  met  her  when  she  was  within 
an  hour  or  two  of  home.  As  she  entered  the  sala,  Don 
Guillermo,  Reinaldo,  and  Prudencia  literally  flung  them- 
selves upon  her ;  and  she  stood  like  a  rock  and  supported 
them.  She  had  loved  her  mother,  but  it  had  always  been 
her  lot  to  prop  other  people ;  she  never  had  had  a  chance 
to  lean. 

All  that  night  and  next  day  she  was  closely  engaged 
with  the  members  of  the  agonized  household,  even  visit- 
ing the  grif -stricken  Indians  at  times.  On  the  second 
night  she  went  to  the  room  where  her  mother  lay  with 
all  the  pomp  of  candles  and  crosses,  and  bade  the  Indian 
watchers,  crouching  like  buzzards  about  the  corpse,  to 
go  for  a  time.  She  sank  into  a  chair  beside  the  dead,  and 
wondered  at  the  calmness  of  her  heart.  She  was  not 
conscious  of  any  feeling  stronger  than  regret.  She  tried 
to  realize  the  irrevocableness  of  death — that  the  mother 
who  had  been  so  kindly  an  influence  in  her  life  had  gone 
out  of  it.  But  the  knowledge  brought  no  grief.  She 
felt  only  the  necessity  for  alleviating  the  grief  of  others ; 
that  was  her  part. 

The  door  opened.  She  drew  her  breath  suddenly.  She 
knew  that  it  was  Estenega.  He  sat  down  beside  her  and 

340 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  341 

took  her  hand  and  held  it,  without  a  word,  for  hours. 
Gradually  she  leaned  toward  him,  although  without 
touching  him.  And  after  a  time  her  own  tears  came. 

He  went  his  way  the  next  morning,  but  he  wrote  to 
her  before  he  left,  and  again  from  Monterey,  and  then 
from  the  North.  She  answered  only  once,  and  then  with 
but  a  line. 

But  the  line  was  this : 

"Write  to  me  until  you  have  forgotten  me." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

BEFORE  going  to  Mexico,  Estenega  remained  for  some 
weeks  at  his  ranches  in  the  North,  overlooking  the  slaugh- 
tering of  his  cattle ;  an  important  yearly  event,  for  the 
trade  in  hides  and  tallow  with  foreign  shippers  was  the 
chief  source  of  the  Calif  ornian 's  income.  He  also  was 
associated  with  the  Russians  at  Fort  Ross  and  Bodega 
in  the  fur- trade.  But  he  was  far  from  being  sat- 
isfied with  these  desultory  gains.  They  sufficed  his 
private  wants,  but  with  the  great  schemes  he  had  in  mind 
he  needed  gold  by  the  bushel.  How  to  obtain  it  was  a 
problem  which  sat  on  the  throne  of  his  mind  side  by 
side  with  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada.  He  had  reason  to 
believe  that  gold  lay  under  California ;  but  where  ?  He 
determined  that  upon  his  return  from  Mexico  he  would 
take  measures  to  discover,  although  he  objected  to  the 
methods  which  alone  could  be  employed.  But,  like  all 
born  rulers  of  men,  he  had  an  impatient  scorn  for  means 
with  a  great  end  in  view.  There  was  no  intermediate 
way  to  make  the  money.  It  would  be  a  hundred  years 
before  the  country  would  be  populous  enough  to  give 
his  vast  ranches  a  reasonable  value;  and  although  he 
had  twenty  thousand  head  of  cattle,  the  market  for  their 
disposal  was  limited,  and  barter  was  the  principle  of 
trade,  rather  than  coin. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  month  he  hurried  to  Monterey 
to  catch  a  bark  about  to  sail  for  Mexico.  The  impor- 
tant preliminaries  of  the  future  he  had  planned  could 
no  longer  be  delayed ;  the  treacherous  revengeful  nature 
of  Reinaldo  might  at  any  moment  awake  from  the  spell 
in  which  he  had  locked  it;  had  a  ship  sailed  before,  he 
would  have  left  his  commercial  interests  with  his  major- 
domo  and  gone  to  the  seat  of  government  at  once. 

342 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  343 

He  arrived  in  Monterey  one  evening  after  hard  riding. 
The  city  was  singularly  quiet.  It  was  the  hour  when 
the  indefatigable  dancers  of  that  gay  town  should  have 
flitted  past  the  open  windows  of  the  salas,  when  the 
air  should  have  been  vocal  with  the  flute  and  guitar, 
song  and  light  laughter.  But  the  city  might  have  been 
a  living  tomb.  The  white  rayless  houses  were  heavy  and 
silent  as  sepulchres.  He  rode  slowly  down  Alvarado 
Street,  and  saw  the  advancing  glow  of  a  cigar.  When 
the  cigar  was  abreast  of  him  he  recognized  Mr.  Larkin. 

' '  What  is  the  matter  ? "  he  asked. 

" Small-pox/ '  replied  the  consul  succinctly.  "Better 
get  on  board  at  once.  And  steer  clear  of  the  lower  quar- 
ter. Your  vaquero  arrived  yesterday,  and  I  instructed 
him  to  put  your  baggage  in  the  custom-house.  He 
dropped  it  and  fled  to  the  country. ' ' 

Estenega  thanked  him  and  proceeded  on  his  way. 
He  made  a  circuit  to  avoid  the  lower  quarter,  but  saw 
that  it  was  not  abandoned ;  lights  moved  here  and  there. 
"Poor  creatures!"  he  thought,  "they  are  probably  dy- 
ing like  poisoned  rats." 

On  the  side  of  the  hill  by  the  road  was  a  solitary  hut. 
He  was  obliged  to  pass  it.  A  candle  burned  beyond  the 
open  window,  and  he  set  his  lips  and  turned  his  head ; 
not  from  fear  of  contagion,  however.  His  eyes  were 
drawn  to  the  window  in  spite  of  his  resolute  will.  He 
looked  once,  and  looked  again,  then  checked  his  horse. 
On  the  bed  lay  a  girl  in  the  middle  stages  of  the  disease, 
her  eyes  glittering  with  delirium,  her  black  hair  matted 
and  wet.  She  was  evidently  alone.  Estenega  spurred 
his  horse  and  galloped  round  to  the  back  of  the  hut.  In 
the  kitchen,  the  only  other  room,  huddled  an  old  crone, 
brown  and  gnarled  like  an  old  apple.  She  was  sleeping; 
by  her  side  was  a  bottle  of  aguardiente.  Estenega  called 
loudly  to  her : 

"Susana!" 

The  creature  stirred,  but  did  not  open  her  eyes.     He 
called  twice   again,   and   awakened  her.     She  stared 


344    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

through  the  open  door,  her  lower  jaw  falling,  showing 
the  yellow  stumps. 

"  Who  is?" 

'  '  Is  Anita  alone  with  you  ? ' ' 

"Ay,  yi!  Don  Diego!  Yes,  yes.  All  run  from  the 
house  like  rats  from  a  ship  that  burns.  Ay,  yi !  Ay,  yi ! 

and  she  so  pretty  before !  A-y,  y-i ! "  Her  head  fell 

forward ;  she  relapsed  into  stupor. 

Estenega  rode  round  to  the  window  again.  The  girl 
was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  mechanically  pulling 
the  long  matted  strands  of  her  hair. 

"Water!  water!"  she  cried  faintly.  "Ay,  Mary!" 
She  strove  to  rise,  but  fell  back,  clutching  at  the  bed- 
clothing. 

Estenega  rode  to  a  deserted  hut  near  by,  concealed  his 
saddle  in  a  corner  under  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  turned 
his  horse  loose.  He  returned  to  the  hut  where  the  sick 
girl  lay,  and  entered  the  room.  She  recognized  him  in 
spite  of  her  fever. 

"Don  Diego!  Is  it  you? — you?"  she  said,  half  rais- 
ing herself.  * '  Ay,  Mary !  is  it  the  delirium  ? ' ' 

"It  is  I,"  he  said.  "I  will  take  care  of  you.  Do  you 
want  water  ? ' ' 

'  *  Ay,  water.  Ay,  thou  wert  always  kind,  even  though 
thy  love  did  last  so  little  a  while." 

He  brought  the  water,  and  did  what  he  could  to  re- 
lieve her  sufferings.  Like  all  the  rancheros,  he  had  some 
knowledge  of  medicine.  He  held  the  old  crone  under 
the  pump,  gave  her  an  emetic,  broke  her  bottle,  and 
ordered  her  to  help  him  care  for  the  girl.  Between  awe 
of  him  and  promise  of  gold,  she  gave  him  some  assist- 
ance. 

Estenega  watched  the  vessel  sail  the  next  morning,  and 
battled  with  the  impulse  to  leap  from  the  window,  hire 
a  boat,  and  overtake  it.  The  delay  of  a  month  might 
mean  the  death  of  his  hopes.  For  all  he  knew,  the  bark 
carried  the  letters  of  his  undoing;  Reinaldo  himself 
might  be  on  it.  He  set  his  lips  with  an  expression  of 
bitter  contempt — tke  expression  directed  at  his  own  im- 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  345 

potenee  in  the  hands  of  circumstance — and  went  to  the 
bedside  of  the  girl.  She  was  hopelessly  ill ;  even  medical 
skill,  were  there  such  a  thing  in  the  country,  could  not 
save  her;  but  he  could  not  leave  to  die  like  a  dog  a 
woman  who  had  been  his  mistress,  even  if  only  the  fancy 
of  a  few  months,  as  this  poor  girl  had  been.  She  had 
loved  him,  and  never  annoyed  him ;  they  had  maintained 
friendly  relations,  and  he  had  helped  her  whenever  she 
had  appealed  to  him.  But  in  this  hour  of  her  extremity 
she  had  further  rights,  and  he  recognized  them.  He 
had  cut  her  hair  close  to  her  head,  and  she  looked  more 
comfortable,  although  an  unpleasant  sight.  As  he  re- 
garded her,  he  thought  of  Chonita,  and  the  tide  of  love 
rose  in  him  as  it  had  not  done  before.  In  the  beginning 
he  had  been  hardly  more  than  infatuated  with  her  orig- 
inality and  her  curious  beauty;  at  Santa  Barbara  her 
sweetness  and  kinship  had  stolen  into  him,  and  the  mo- 
mentous fusion  of  passion  and  spiritual  love  had  given 
new  birth  to  a  torpid  soul,  and  stirred  and  shaken  his 
manhood  as  lust  had  never  done ;  now  in  her  absence  and 
exaltation  above  common  mortals  he  reverenced  her  as 
an  ideal.  Even  in  the  bitterness  of  the  knowledge  that 
months  must  elapse  before  he  could  see  her  again,  the 
tenderness  she  had  drawn  to  herself  from  the  serious 
depths  of  his  nature  throbbed  throughout  him,  and  made 
him  more  than  gentle  to  the  poor  creature  whose  igno- 
rance could  not  have  comprehended  the  least  of  what  he 
felt  for  Chonita. 

She  died  within  three  days.  The  good  priest,  who 
stood  to  his  post  and  made  each  of  his  afflicted  poor  a 
brief  daily  visit,  prayed  by  her  as  she  fell  into  stupor, 
but  she  was  incapable  of  receiving  extreme  unction. 
Estenega  was  alone  with  her  when  she  died.  The  priest 
returned  a  few  moments  later. 

"Don  Thomas  Larkin  wishes  me  to  say  to  you,  Don 
Diego  Estenega,"  said  the  Father,  "that  he  would  be 
glad  to  have  you  stay  with  him  until  the  next  vessel 
arrives.  As  two  members  of  his  family  have  the  disease, 


346    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

he  has  nothing  to  fear  from  you.  I  will  care  for  the 
body/' 

Estenega  handed  him  money  for  the  burial,  and  looked 
at  him  speculatively.  The  priest  must  have  heard  the 
girl's  confessions,  and  he  wondered  why  he  did  not  em- 
brace the  opportunity  to  reprove  a  man  whose  indiffer- 
ence to  the  Church  was  a  matter  of  indignant  comment 
among  the  clergy.  The  priest  appeared  to  divine  his 
thoughts,  for  he  said : 

"You  have  done  more  than  your  duty,  Don  Diego. 
And  to  the  frailties  of  men  I  think  the  good  God  is 
merciful.  He  made  them.  Go  in  peace." 

Estenega  accepted  Mr.  Larkin's  invitation,  but,  in 
spite  of  the  genial  society  of  the  consul,  he  spent  in  his 
house  the  most  wretched  three  weeks  of  his  life.  He 
dared  not  leave  Monterey  until  he  had  passed  the  time 
of  incubation,  having  no  desire  to  spread  the  disease ;  he 
dared  not  write  to  Chonita,  for  the  same  reason.  What 
must  she  think?  She  supposed  him  to  have  sailed,  of 
course,  but  he  had  promised  to  write  her  from  Mon- 
terey, and  again  from  San  Diego.  And  the  uncertainty 
regarding  his  Mexican  affairs  was  intolerable  to  a  man 
of  his  active  impatient  mind.  His  only  comfort  lay  in 
Mr.  Larkin's  assurance  that  the  national  bark,  Joven 
Guipuzcoana,  was  due  within  the  month  and  would  re- 
turn at  once.  Early  in  the  fourth  week  the  assurance 
was  fulfilled,  and  by  the  time  he  was  ready  to  sail  again 
his  danger  from  contagion  was  over.  But  he  embarked 
without  writing  to  Chonita. 

The  voyage  lasted  a  month,  tedious  and  monotonous, 
more  trying  than  his  delay  on  land,  for  there,  at 
least,  he  could  recover  some  serenity  by  violent  exercise. 
He  divided  his  time  between  pacing  the  deck,  when  the 
weather  permitted,  and  writing  to  Chonita:  long,  inti- 
mate, possessing  letters,  which  would  reveal  her  to  her- 
self as  nothing  else,  short  of  his  own  dominant  contact, 
could  do.  At  San  Bias  he  posted  his  letters,  and  wel- 
comed the  rough  journey  overland  to  the  capital;  but 
under  a  calm  exterior  he  was  possessed  of  the  spirit  of 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  347 

disquiet.  As  so  often  happens,  however,  his  fears  proved 
to  have  been  vagaries  of  a  morbid  state  of  mind,  and  of 
that  habit  of  thought  which  would  associate  with  every 
cause  an  effect  of  similar  magnitude.  Santa  Ana  wel- 
comed him  with  friendly  enthusiasm,  and  was  ready  to 
listen  to  his  plans.  That  wily  and  astute  politician,  who 
was  always  abreast  of  progress  and  never  in  its  lead, 
recognized  in  Estenega  the  coming  man,  and,  knowing 
that  the  seizure  of  Alta  California  by  the  United  States 
was  only  a  question  of  time,  was  keenly  desirous  to  make 
an  ally  of  the  man  who,  he  foresaw,  would  control  it  as 
long  as  he  chose,  both  at  home  and  in  "Washington.  For 
the  matter  of  that,  he  recognized  the  impotence  of  Mex- 
ico to  interfere,  beyond  bluster,  with  plans  any  resolute 
Calif  ornian  might  choose  to  pursue ;  but  it  was  important 
to  Estenega 's  purpose  that  the  Governorship  should  be 
assured  to  him  by  the  central  government,  and  the  eyes 
of  the  Mexican  Congress  directed  elsewhere.  He  knew 
the  value  of  the  moral  effect  which  its  apparent  sanc- 
tion would  have  upon  rebellious  Southerners. 

"I  am  at  your  service,"  said  Santa  Ana;  "and  the 
Governorship  is  yours.  But  take  heed  that  no  rumor  of 
your  ultimate  intentions  reaches  the  ears  of  Congress 
until  you  are  firmly  established.  If  it  opposed  you  re- 
lentlessly— and  it  keeps  its  teeth  on  California  like  a 
dog  on  a  bone  bigger  than  himself — I  should  have  to 
yield;  I  have  too  much  at  stake  myself.  I  will  look  out 
that  any  communications  from  enemies,  including  Iturbi 
y  Moncada,  are  opened  first  by  me. ' ' 

Estenega  wrote  to  Chonita  again  by  the  ship  that  left 
during  his  brief  stay  in  the  capital,  and  it  was  his  in- 
tention to  go  directly  to  Santa  Barbara  upon  arriving  in 
California.  But  when  he  landed  in  Monterey — disin- 
fected and  careless  as  of  old — he  learned  that  she  was 
about  to  start,  perhaps  already  had  started,  for  Fort 
Ross,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Eotschevs.  The  news  gave 
him  pleasure ;  it  had  been  his  wish  to  say  what  he  had 
yet  to  say  in  his  own  forests. 

And  then  the  plan  which  had  been  stirring  restlessly 


848    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

in  his  mind  for  many  months  took  imperative  shape :  he 
determined  that  if  there  was  gold  in  California  he  would 
wring  the  secret  out  of  its  keeper,  by  gentle  means  or 
violent,  and  that  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

ESTENEGA  drew  rein  the  next  night  before  the  neglected 
Mission  of  San  Rafael.  The  valley,  surrounded  by  hills 
dark  with  the  silent  redwoods,  bore  not  a  trace  of  the 
populous  life  of  the  days  before  secularization.  The 
padre  lived  alone,  lodge-keeper  of  a  valley  of  shadows. 

He  opened  the  door  of  his  room  on  the  corridor  as 
he  heard  the  approach  of  the  traveler,  squinting  his 
bleared  yellow-spotted  eyes.  He  was  surly  by  nature, 
but  he  bowed  low  to  the  man  whose  power  was  so  great 
in  California,  and  whose  generosity  had  sent  him  many 
a  bullock.  He  cooked  him  supper  from  his  frugal  store, 
piled  the  logs  in  the  open  fireplace — November  was  come 
— and,  after  a  bottle  of  wine,  produced  from  Estenega's 
saddle-bag,  expanded  into  a  hermit's  pale  imitation  of 
good  fellowship.  Late  in  the  night  they  still  sat  on 
either  side  of  the  table  in  the  dusty  desolate  room.  The 
Forgotten  had  been  entertained  with  vivid  and  shifting 
pictures  of  the  great  capital  in  which  he  had  passed 
his  boyhood.  He  smiled  occasionally ;  now  and  again  he 
gave  a  quick  impatient  sigh.  Suddenly  Estenega  leaned 
forward  and  fixed  him  with  his  powerful  gaze. 

"Is  there  gold  in  these  mountains?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

The  priest  was  thrown  off  his  guard  for  a  moment ;  a 
look  of  meaning  flashed  into  his  eyes,  then  one  of  cun- 
ning displaced  it. 

"It  may  be,  Senor  Don  Diego;  gold  is  often  in  the 
earth.  But  had  I  the  unholy  knowledge,  I  would  lock  it 
in  my  breast.  Gold  is  the  canker  in  the  heart  of  the 
world.  It  is  not  for  the  Church  to  scatter  the  evil  broad- 
cast" 

349 


350    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Estenega  shut  his  teeth.  Fanaticism  was  a  more  pow- 
erful combatant  than  avarice. 

"True,  my  father.  But  think  of  the  good  that  gold 
has  wrought.  Could  these  Missions  have  been  built 
without  gold? — these  thousands  of  Indians  Christian- 
ized?" 

' '  What  you  say  is  not  untrue ;  but  for  one  good,  ten 
thousand  evils  are  wrought  with  the  metal  which  the 
devil  mixed  in  hell  and  poured  through  the  veins  of  the 
earth. " 

Estenega  spent  a  half  hour  representing  in  concrete 
and  forcible  images  the  debt  which  civilization  owed  to 
the  fact  and  circulation  of  gold.  The  priest  replied  that 
California  was  a  proof  that  commerce  could  exist  by 
barter;  the  money  in  the  country  was  not  worth  speak- 
ing of. 

"And  no  progress  to  speak  of  in  a  hundred  years," 
retorted  Estenega.  Then  he  expatiated  upon  the  unique 
future  of  California  did  she  have  gold  to  develop  her 
wonderful  resources.  The  priest  said  that  to  cut  Cali- 
fornia from  her  Arcadian  simplicity  would  be  to  start 
her  on  her  journey  to  the  devil  along  with  the  corrupt 
nations  of  the  Old  World.  Estenega  demonstrated  that 
if  there  was  vice  in  the  older  civilizations  there  was  also 
a  higher  state  of  mental  development,  and  that  Religion 
held  her  own.  He  might  as  well  have  addressed  the 
dark  forest  without.  He  tempted  with  the  bait  of  one 
of  the  more  central  Missions.  The  priest  had  only  the 
dust  of  ambition  in  the  cellar  of  his  brain. 

He  lost  his  patience  at  last.  *  *  I  must  have  gold, ' '  he 
said  shortly;  "and  you  shall  show  me  where  to  find  it. 
You  once  betrayed  to  my  father  that  you  knew  of  its 
existence  in  these  hills ;  and  you  shall  give  me  the  key. ' ' 

The  priest  looked  into  the  eyes  of  steel  and  at  the 
contemptuously  determined  face,  and  shut  his  lips.  He 
was  alone  with  a  desperate  man ;  he  had  not  even  a  serv- 
ant ;  he  could  be  murdered,  and  his  murderer  go  unsus- 
pected. But  the  heart  of  the  fanatic  was  in  him.  He 
made  no  reply. 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  351 

"You  know  me,"  said  Estenega.  "I  owe  half  my 
power  in  California  to  the  fact  that  I  do  not  make  a 
threat  to-day  and  forget  it  to-morrow.  You  will  show 
me  where  that  gold  is,  or  I  shall  kill  you." 

"The  servant  of  God  dies  when  his  hour  comes.  If 
I  am  to  die  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin,  so  be  it." 

Estenega  leaned  forward  and  placed  his  strong  hand 
about  the  priest's  baggy  throat,  pushing  the  table  against 
his  chest.  He  pressed  his  thumb  against  the  throttle, 
his  second  finger  hard  against  the  jugular,  and  the 
tongue  rolled  over  the  teeth,  the  congested  eyes  bulged. 

"It  may  be  that  you  scorn  death,  but  will  not  fancy 
the  mode  of  it.  I  have  no  desire  to  kill  you.  Alive  or 
dead,  your  life  is  of  no  more  value  than  that  of  a  worm. 
But  you  shall  die,  and  die  with  much  discomfort,  unless 
you  do  as  I  wish. ' '  His  hand  relaxed  its  grasp,  but  still 
pressed  the  rough  dirty  throat. 

' '  Accursed  heretic ! ' '  said  the  priest. 

"Spare  your  curses  for  the  superstitious." 

He  saw  a  gleam  of  cunning  come  into  the  priest's 
eyes. 

"Very  well;  if  I  must,  I  must.  Let  me  rise,  and  I 
will  conduct  you." 

Estenega  took  a  piece  of  rope  from  his  saddle-bag  and 
tied  it  about  the  priest's  waist  and  his  own. 

"If  you  have  any  holy  pitfall  in  view  for  me,  I  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  your  company.  And  if  I  am  led 
into  labyrinths  to  die  of  starvation,  you  at  least  will 
have  a  meal;  I  could  not  eat  you." 

If  the  priest  was  disconcerted,  he  did  not  show  it. 
He  took  a  lantern  from  a  shelf,  lit  the  fragment  of 
candle,  and,  opening  a  door  at  the  back,  walked  through 
the  long  line  of  inner  rooms.  All  were  heaped  with 
rubbish.  In  one  he  found  a  trap-door  with  his  foot,  and 
descended  rough  steps  cut  out  of  the  earth.  The  air 
rose  chill  and  damp,  and  Estenega  knew  that  the  tunnel 
of  the  Mission  was  below,  the  secret  exit  to  the  hills 
which  the  early  Fathers  built  as  a  last  recourse  hi  case 
of  defeat  by  savage  tribes.  When  they  reached  the  bot- 


352    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

torn  of  the  steps  the  tallow  dip  illumined  but  a  narrow 
circle;  Estenega  could  form  no  idea  of  the  workman- 
ship of  the  tunnel,  except  that  it  was  not  more  than  six 
feet  and  a  few  inches  high,  for  his  hat  brushed  the  top, 
and  that  the  floor  and  sides  appeared  to  be  of  pressed, 
clay.  There  was  ventilation  somewhere,  but  no  light. 
They  walked  a  mile  or  more,  and  then  Estenega  had  a 
sense  of  stepping  into  a  wider  and  higher  excavation. 

"We  are  no  longer  in  the  tunnel,"  said  the  priest. 
He  lifted  the  lantern  and  swung  it  above  his  head.  Es- 
tenega saw  that  they  were  in  a  circular  room,  hollowed 
probably  out  of  the  heart  of  a  hill.  He  also  saw  some- 
thing else. 

' '  What  is  that  ? ' '  he  exclaimed  sharply. 

The  priest  handed  him  the  lantern.  "Look  for  your- 
self/' he  said. 

Estenega  took  the  lantern,  and,  holding  it  just  above 
his  head  and  close  to  the  walls,  slowly  traversed  the 
room.  It  was  belted  with  three  strata  of  crystal-like 
quartz,  sown  thick  with  glittering  yellow  specks  and  nug- 
gets. Each  stratum  was  about  three  feet  wide. 

"There  is  a  fortune  here,"  he  said.  He  felt  none  of 
the  greed  of  gold,  merely  a  recognition  of  its  power. 

"Yes,  senor;  enough  to  pay  the  debt  of  a  nation." 

"Where  are  we?  Under  what  hill?  I  am  sorry  I 
had  not  a  compass  with  me.  It  was  impossible  to  make 
any  accurate  guess  of  direction  in  that  slanting  tunnel. 
Where  is  the  outlet?" 

The  priest  made  no  reply. 

Estenega  turned  to  him  peremptorily.  "Answer  me. 
How  can  I  find  this  place  from  without  ? ' ' 

"You  never  will  find  it  from  without.  When  the  dan- 
ger from  Indians  was  over,  a  pious  Father  closed  the 
opening.  This  gold  is  not  for  you.  You  could  not  find 
even  the  trap-door  by  yourself. ' ' 

' '  Then  why  have  you  brought  me  here  ? ' ' 

"To  tantalize  you.  To  punish  you  for  your  insult  to 
the  Church  through  me.  Kill  me  now,  if  you  wish.  Bet- 
ter death  than  hell." 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  353 

Estenega  made  a  rapid  circuit  of  the  room.  There 
was  no  mode  of  egress  other  than  that  by  which  they  had 
entered,  and  no  sign  of  any  previously  existing.  He 
sprang  upon  the  priest  and  shook  him  until  the  worn 
stumps  rattled  in  their  gums. 

1 1  You  dog ! ' '  he  said,  * '  to  balk  me  with  your  ignorant 
superstition!  Take  me  out  of  this  place  by  its  other 
entrance  at  once,  that  I  may  remain  on  the  hill  until 
morning.  I  would  not  trust  your  word.  You  shall  tell 
me,  if  I  have  to  torture  you." 

The  priest  made  a  sudden  spring  and  closed  with 
Estenega,  hugging  him  like  a  bear.  The  lantern  fell 
and  went  out.  The  two  men  stumbled  blindly  in  the 
blackness,  striking  the  walls,  wrestling  desperately,  the 
priest  using  his  teeth  and  panting  like  a  beast.  But  he 
was  no  match  for  the  virility  and  science  of  his  young 
opponent.  Estenega  threw  him  in  a  moment  and  bound 
him  with  the  rope.  Then  he  found  the  lantern  and  lit 
the  candle  again.  He  returned  to  the  priest  and  stood 
over  him.  The  latter  was  conquered  physically,  but  the 
dogged  light  of  bigotry  still  burned  in  his  eyes,  although 
Estenega 's  were  not  agreeable  to  face. 

Estenega  was  furious.  He  had  twisted  Santa  Ana, 
one  of  the  most  subtle  and  self-seeking  men  of  his  time, 
round  his  finger  as  if  he  had  been  a  yard  of  ribbon; 
Alvarado,  the  wisest  man  ever  born  in  the  Californias, 
was  swayed  by  his  judgment;  yet  all  the  arts  of  which 
his  intellect  was  master  fell  blunt  and  useless  before 
this  clay-brained  priest.  He  had  more  respect  for  the 
dogs  in  his  kennels,  but  unless  he  resorted  to  extreme 
measures  the  creature  would  defeat  him  through  sheer 
brute  ignorance.  Estenega  was  not  a  man  to  stop  in 
sight  of  victory  or  to  give  his  sword  to  an  enemy  he 
despised. 

"You  are  at  my  mercy.  You  realize  that  now,  I  sup- 
pose. Will  you  show  me  the  other  way  out?" 

The  priest  drew  down  his  under-lip  like  a  snarling 
dog,  revealing  the  discolored  stumps.  But  he  made  no 
other  reply. 


354    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

Estenega  lit  a  match,  and,  kneeling  beside  the  priest, 
held  it  to  his  stubbled  beard.  As  the  flame  licked  the 
flesh  the  man  uttered  a  yell  like  a  kicked  brute.  Este- 
nega sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  oath.  ' '  I  can 't  do  it ! " 
he  exclaimed,  with  bitter  disgust.  * '  I  haven 't  the  iron  of 
cruelty  in  me.  I  am  not  fit  to  be  a  ruler  of  men. ' '  He 
untied  the  rope  about  the  prisoner's  feet.  "Get  up/' 
he  said,  "and  conduct  me  back  as  we  came/' 

The  priest  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  hobbled  down 
the  long  tunnel.  They  ascended  the  steps  beneath  the 
Mission  and  emerged  into  the  room. 

Estenega  turned  swiftly  to  prevent  the  clesing  of 
the  trap-door,  but  only  in  time  to  hear  it  shut  with  a 
spring  and  the  priest  kick  rubbish  above  it.  He  cut  the 
rope  which  bound  the  other's  hands. 

"  Go ! "  he  said,  ' '  I  have  no  further  use  for  you.  And 
if  you  report  this,  I  need  not  explain  to  you  that  it  will 
fare  worse  with  you  than  it  will  with  me. ' ' 

The  priest  fled,  and  Estenega,  hanging  the  lantern  on  a 
nail,  pushed  aside  the  rubbish  with  his  feet,  purposing 
to  pace  the  room  until  dawn.  In  a  few  moments,  how- 
ever, he  discovered  that  the  despised  hermit  was  not 
without  his  allies;  ten  thousand  fleas,  the  pest  of  the 
country,  assaulted  every  part  of  his  body  they  could 
reach.  They  swarmed  down  the  legs  of  his  riding- 
boots,  up  his  trousers,  up  his  sleeves,  down  his  neck. 
' '  There  is  no  such  thing  in  life  as  tragedy, ' '  he  thought. 
He  hung  the  lantern  outside  the  door  to  mark  the  room, 
and  paced  the  yard  until  morning.  But  there  were  dark 
hours  yet  before  the  dawn,  and  during  one  of  them  a 
figure,  when  his  back  was  turned,  crept  to  the  lantern 
and  hung  it  before  another  room.  When  light  came — 
and  the  fog  came  first — all  Estenega 's  efforts  to  find 
the  trap-door  were  unavailing,  although  the  yard  was 
littered  with  the  rubbish  he  flung  into  it  from  the  room. 
He  suspected  the  trick,  but  there  were  ten  rooms  exactly 
alike,  and  although  he  cleared  most  of  them  he  could 
discover  no  trace  of  the  trap-door.  He  looked  at  the 
hills  surrounding  the  Mission.  They  were  many,  and 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  355 

beyond  there  were  others.  He  mounted  his  horse  and 
rode  round  the  buildings,  listening  carefully  for  hollow 
reverberations.  The  tunnel  was  too  far  below ;  he  heard 
nothing. 

He  was  defeated.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 
was  without  resource,  overwhelmed  by  a  force  stronger 
than  his  own  will ;  and  his  spirit  was  savage  within  him. 
He  had  no  authority  to  dig  the  floors  of  the  Mission, 
for  the  Mission  and  several  acres  about  it  were  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Church.  The  priest  never  would  take  him  on 
that  underground  journey  again,  for  he  had  learned  the 
weak  spot  in  his  armor,  nor  had  he  fear  of  death.  Un- 
less accident  favored  him,  or  some  one  more  fortunate, 
the  golden  heart  of  the  San  Kafael  hill  would  pulse  un- 
rifled  for  ever. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

HE  turned  his  back  upon  the  Mission  and  rode  toward 
his  home,  sixty  miles  in  a  howling  November  wind.  At 
Bodega  Bay  he  learned  that  Governor  Rotschev  had 
passed  there  two  days  before  with  a  party  of  guests  that 
he  had  gone  down  to  Sausalito  to  meet.  Chonita  await- 
ed him  in  the  North.  A  softer  mood  pressed  through 
the  somberness  of  his  spirit,  and  the  candle  of  hope 
burned  again.  Gold  must  exist  elsewhere  in  California, 
and  he  swore  anew  that  it  should  yield  itself  to  him. 
The  last  miles  of  his  ride  lay  along  the  cliffs.  Some- 
times the  steep  hills  covered  with  redwoods  rose  so 
abruptly  from  the  trail  that  the  undergrowth  brushed 
him  as  he  passed;  on  the  other  side  but  a  few  inches 
stood  between  himself  and  death  amid  the  surf  pound- 
ing on  the  rocks  five  hundred  feet  below.  The  sea-gulls 
screamed  about  his  head,  the  sea-lions  barked  with  the 
hollow  note  of  consumptives  on  the  outlying  rocks.  On 
the  horizon  was  a  bank  of  fog,  outlined  with  the  crests 
and  slopes  and  gulches  of  the  mountain  beside  him.  It 
sent  an  advance  wrack  scudding  gracefully  across  the 
ocean  to  puff  among  the  redwoods,  capriciously  clinging 
to  some,  ignoring  others.  Then  came  the  vast  white 
mountain,  rushing  over  the  roaring  ocean,  up  the  cliffs 
and  into  the  gloomy  forests,  blotting  the  lonely  horseman 
from  sight. 

He  arrived  at  his  house — a  big  structure  of  logs — late 
in  the  night.  His  servants  came  out  to  meet  him,  and 
in  a  moment  a  fire  leaped  in  the  great  fireplace  in  his 
library.  He  lived  alone ;  his  parents  and  brothers  were 
dead,  and  his  sisters  married ;  but  the  fire  made  the  low 
long  room,  covered  with  bear-skins  and  lined  with  books, 
as  cheerful  as  a  bachelor  could  expect.  He  found  a  note 

356 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  357 

from  the  Princess  Helene  Rotschev,  the  famous  wife  of 
the  Governor,  asking  him  to  spend  the  following  week 
at  Fort  Ross;  but  he  was  so  tired  that  even  the  image 
of  Chonita  was  dim;  the  note  barely  caused  a  throb  of 
anticipation.  After  supper  he  flung  himself  on  a  couch 
before  the  fire  and  slept  until  morning,  then  went  to  bed 
and  slept  until  afternoon.  By  that  time  he  was  himself 
again.  He  sent  a  vaquero  ahead  with  his  evening 
clothes,  and  an  hour  or  two  later  started  for  Fort  Ross, 
spurring  his  horse  with  a  lighter  heart  over  the  cliffs. 
His  rarichos  adjoined  the  Russian  settlement;  the  jour- 
ney from  his  house  to  the  military  enclosure  was  not  a 
long  one.  He  soon  rounded  the  point  of  a  sloping  hill 
and  entered  the  spreading  cove  formed  by  the  moun- 
tains receding  in  a  semicircle  above  the  cliffs,  and  in 
whose  shelter  lay  Fort  Ross.  The  fort  was  surrounded 
by  a  stockade  of  redwood  beams,  bastions  in  the  shape 
of  hexagonal  towers  at  diagonal  corners.  Cannon, 
mounted  on  carriages,  were  at  each  of  the  four  entrances, 
in  the  middle  of  the  enclosure,  and  in  the  bastions.  Sen- 
tries paced  the  ramparts  with  unremitting  vigilance. 

Within  were  the  long  low  buildings  occupied  by  the 
Governor  and  officers,  the  barracks,  and  the  Russian 
church,  with  its  belfry  and  cupola.  Beyond  was  the 
"town,"  a  collection  of  huts  accommodating  about 
eight  hundred  Indians  and  Siberian  convicts,  the  work- 
ing-men of  the  company.  All  the  buildings  were  of  red- 
wood logs  or  planed  boards,  and  made  a  very  different 
picture  from  the  white  towns  of  the  South.  The  curv- 
ing mountains  were  sombre  with  redwoods,  the  ocean 
growled  unceasingly. 

Estenega  threw  his  bridle  to  a  soldier  and  went  di- 
rectly to  the  house.  A  servant  met  him  on  the  veran- 
dah and  conducted  him  to  his  room;  it  was  late,  and 
everyone  else  was  dressing  for  dinner.  He  changed  his 
riding-clothes  for  the  evening  dress  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion, and  went  at  once  to  the  drawing-room.  Here  all 
was  luxury,  nothing  to  suggest  the  privations  of  a  new 
country.  A  thick  red  carpet  covered  the  floor,  red  arras 


358    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  walls;  the  music  of  Mozart  and  Beethoven  was  on 
the  grand  piano.  The  furniture  was  rich  and  comfort- 
able; the  large  carved  tahle  was  covered  with  French 
novels  and  European  periodicals. 

The  candles  had  not  been  brought  in,  but  logs  blazed 
in  the  open  fireplace.  As  Estenega  crossed  the  room,  a 
woman,  dressed  in  black,  rose  from  a  deep  chair,  and 
he  recognized  Chonita.  He  sprang  forward  impetuous- 
ly and  held  out  his  arms,  but  she  waved  him  back. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  hurriedly.  "I  want  to  explain 
why  I  am  here.  I  came  for  two  reasons :  First,  I  could 
refuse  the  Princess  Helene  no  longer;  she  goes  so  soon. 
And  then — I  wanted  to  see  you  once  more  before  I  leave 
the  world." 

"Before  you  do  what?" 

"I  am  not  going  into  a  convent;  I  cannot  leave  my 
father.  I  am  going  to  retire  to  the  most  secluded  of  our 
ranches,  to  see  no  more  of  the  world  or  its  people.  I 
shall  take  my  father  with  me.  Reinaldo  and  Prudencia 
will  remain  at  Casa  Grande. ' ' 

1  ( Nonsense ! "  he  exclaimed  impatiently.  ' '  Do  you  sup- 
pose I  shall  let  you  do  anything  of  the  sort  ?  How  little 
you  know  me,  my  love !  But  we  will  discuss  that  ques- 
tion later.  We  shall  be  alone  only  a  few  moments  now. 
Tell  me  of  yourself.  How  are  you?" 

"I  will  tell  you  that,  also,  at  another  time." 

And  at  the  moment  a  door  opened,  and  the  Governor 
and  his  wife  entered  and  greeted  Estenega  with  cordial 
hospitality.  The  Governor  was  a  big  red-bearded  Rus- 
sian, with  a  spontaneous  warmth  of  manner;  the  prin- 
cess a  woman  who  possessed  both  elegance  and  vivacity, 
both  coquetry  and  dignity;  she  could  sparkle  and  chill, 
allure  and  suppress  in  the  same  moment.  Even  here, 
rough  and  wild  as  her  surroundings  were,  she  gave  much 
thought  to  her  dress;  to-night  her  blonde  harmonious 
loveliness  was  properly  framed  in  a  toilette  of  mignon- 
ette greens  fresh  from  Paris.  A  moment  later  Reinaldo 
and  Prudencia  appeared,  the  former  as  splendid  a  cab- 
allero  as  ever,  albeit  wearing  the  chastened  air  of  matri- 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  359 

mony,  the  latter  pre-maternally  consequential.  Then 
came  the  officers  and  their  wives,  all  brilliant  in  evening 
dress ;  and  a  moment  later  dinner  was  announced. 

Estenega  sat  at  the  right  of  his  hostess,  and  that 
trained  daughter  of  the  salon  kept  the  table  in  a  light 
ripple  of  conversation,  sparkling  herself,  without  strik- 
ing terror  to  the  hearts  of  her  guests.  She  and  Es- 
tenega were  old  friends,  and  usually  indulged  in  lively 
sallies,  ending  sometimes  in  a  sharp  war  of  words,  for 
she  was  a  very  clever  woman ;  but  to-night  he  gave  her 
absent  attention;  he  watched  Chonita  furtively,  and 
thought  of  little  else. 

Her  eyes  had  darker  shadows  beneath  them  than  those 
cast  by  her  lashes;  her  face  was  pale  and  slightly  hol- 
lowed. She  had  suffered,  and  not  for  her  mother.  * '  She 
shall  suffer  no  more/'  he  thought. 

'  *  We  hunt  bear  to-night, ' '  he  heard  the  Governor  say, 
at  length. 

1 '  I  should  like  to  go, ' '  said  Chonita  quickly.  ' '  I  should 
like  to  go  out  to-night." 

Immediately  there  was  a  chorus  from  all  the  other 
women,  save  the  Princess  Helene  and  Prudencia;  they 
would  go  too.  Kotschev,  who  would  much  rather  have 
left  them  at  home,  consented  with  good  grace,  and  Es- 
tenega 's  spirits  rose  at  once.  He  would  have  a  talk  with 
Chonita  that  night,  something  he  had  not  dared  to  hope 
for,  and  he  suspected  that  she  had  promoted  the  oppor- 
tunity. 

The  men  remained  in  the  dining-room  after  the  ladies 
had  withdrawn,  and  Estenega,  restored  to  his  normal 
condition,  and  in  his  natural  element  among  these  peo- 
ple of  the  world,  expanded  into  the  high  spirits  and 
convivial  interest  in  masculine  society,  which  made  him 
as  popular  with  men  as  he  was  fascinating,  through  the 
exercise  of  more  subtle  faculties,  to  women.  Reinaldo 
watched  him  with  jealous  impatience;  no  one  cared  to 
hearken  to  his  eloquence  when  Estenega  talked ;  and  he 
had  come  to  Fort  Koss  only  to  have  a  conversation  with 
his  one-time  enemy.  As  he  listened  to  Estenega,  shorn, 


360    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

for  the  time  being,  of  his  air  of  dictator  and  watchful 
ambition,  a  man  of  the  world  taking  an  enthusiastic  part 
in  the  hilarity  of  the  hour,  but  never  sacrificing  his  dig- 
nity by  assuming  the  role  of  chief  entertainer,  there  grew 
within  him  a  dull  sense  of  inferiority ;  he  felt,  rather  than 
knew,  that  neither  the  city  of  Mexico  nor  gratified  am- 
bitions would  give  him  that  assured  ease,  that  perfec- 
tion of  breeding,  that  calm  sense  of  power,  concealing 
so  gracefully  the  relentless  will  and  the  infinite  resource, 
which  made  this  most  un-Californian  of  Californians 
seem  to  his  Arcadian  eyes  a  being  of  a  higher  star.  And 
hatred  blazed  forth  anew. 

As  the  men  rose,  finally,  to  go  to  the  drawing-room, 
he  asked  Estenega  to  remain  for  a  moment.  ' '  Thou  wilt 
keep  thy  promise  soon,  no?"  he  said,  when  they  were 
alone. 

"What  promise?" 

"Thy  promise  to  send  me  as  diputado  to  the  next 
Mexican  Congress." 

Estenega  looked  at  him  reflectively.  He  had  little 
toleration-  for  the  man  of  inferior  brain,  and,  although 
he  did  not  underrate  his  power  for  mischief,  he  relied 
upon  his  own  wit  to  circumvent  him.  He  had  disposed 
of  this  one  by  warning  Santa  Ana,  and  he  concluded  to 
be  annoyed  by  him  no  farther.  Besides,  as  a  brother-in- 
law,  he  would  be  insupportable  except  at  the  long  range 
of  mutual  unamiability. 

"I  made  you  no  promise,"  he  said  deliberately;  "and 
I  shall  make  you.  none.  I  do  not  wish  you  in  the  city  of 
Mexico. ' ' 

Reinaldo's  face  grew  livid.  "You  dare  to  say  that  to 
me,  and  yet  would  marry  my  sister?" 

"I  would,  and  I  shall." 

"And  yet  you  would  not  help  her  brother?" 

"Her  brother  is  less  to  me  than  any  man  with  whom 
I  have  sat  to-night.  Build  no  hope  on  that.  You  will 
stay  at  Santa  Barbara  and  play  the  grand  seigneur, 
which  suits  you  very  well,  or  become  a  prisoner  in  your 
own  house."  And  he  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

AN  hour  later  they  assembled  in  the  plaza  to  start  for 
the  bear  hunt.  Reinaldo  was  not  of  the  party. 

Estenega  lifted  Chonita  to  her  horse  and  stood  beside 
her  for  a  moment  while  the  others  mounted.  He  touched 
her  hand  with  his: 

"We  could  not  have  a  more  beautiful  night,"  he  said 
significantly.  ' '  And  I  have  often  wished  that  my  father 
had  included  this  spot  when  he  applied  for  his  grant. 
I  should  like  to  live  with  you  here.  Even  when  the 
winds  rage  and  hurl  the  rain  through  the  very  window 
pane,  I  know  of  no  more  enchanting  spot  than  Fort 
Ross.  The  Russians  are  going;  some  day  I  will  buy  it 
for  you." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  she  did  not  withdraw  her  hand, 
and  he  held  it  closely  and  glanced  slowly  about  him. 
Always,  despite  his  bitter  intimacy  with  life,  in  kinship 
with  nature,  perhaps  in  that  moment  it  had  a  deeper 
meaning,  for  he  saw  with  double  vision.  She  was  there : 
and,  with  him,  sensible  not  only  of  the  beauty  of  the 
night,  but  of  the  indefinable  mystery  which  broods  over 
California  the  moment  the  sun  falls.  Perhaps,  too,  he 
was  troubled  by  a  vague  foreboding,  such  as  comes  to 
mortals  sometimes  in  spite  of  their  limitations.  He 
never  saw  Fort  Ross  again. 

On  the  horizon  the  fog  crouched  and  moved ;  marched 
like  a  battalion  of  ocean 's  ghosts ;  suddenly  cohered  and 
sent  out  light  puffs  of  smoke,  as  from  the  crater  of  a 
spectral  volcano.  The  moon,  full  and  bright  and  cold, 
hung  low  in  the  dark  sky;  one  hardly  noted  the  stars. 
The  vast  sweep  of  water  was  as  calm  as  a  lake,  dark 
and  metallic  like  the  sky,  barely  reflecting  the  silver 

361 


362    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

light  between.  But  although  calm  it  was  not  quiet.  It 
greeted  the  forbidding  rocks  beyond  the  shore,  the  long 
irregular  line  of  stark  storm-beaten  cliffs,  with  ominous 
mutter,  now  and  again  throwing  a  cloud  of  spray  high 
in  the  air,  as  if  in  derisive  proof  that  even  in  sleep  it 
was  sensible  of  its  power.  Occasionally  it  moaned,  as 
if  sounding  a  dirge  along  the  mass  of  stones  which 
storms  had  hurled  or  waves  had  wrenched  from  the 
crags  above — a  dirge  for  beheaded  Russians,  for  him 
who  had  walked  the  plank,  or  for  the  lover  of  Natalie 
Ivanhov. 

Here  and  there  the  cliffs  were  intersected  by  deep 
straggling  gulches,  out  of  whose  sides  grew  low  woods 
of  brush;  but  the  three  tables  rising  successively  from 
the  ocean  to  the  forest  on  the  mountain  were  almost 
bare.  On  the  highest,  between  two  gulches,  en  a  knoll 
so  bare  and  black  and  isolated  that  its  destiny  was  surely 
taken  into  account  at  creation,  were  a  tall  rude  cross  and 
half  a  hundred  neglected  graves.  The  forest  seemed 
blacker  just  behind  it,  the  shadows  thicker  in  the  gorges 
that  embraced  it,  the  ocean  grayer  and  more  illimitable 
before  it. 

"Natalie  Ivanhov  is  there  in  her  copper  coffin,"  said 
Estenega,  "forgotten  already." 

The  curve  of  the  mountain  was  so  perfect  that  it 
seemed  to  reach  down  a  long  arm  on  either  side  and 
grasp  the  cliffs.  The  redwoods  on  its  crown  and  upper 
slopes  were  a  mass  of  rigid  shadows,  the  points,  only, 
sharply  etched  on  the  night  sky.  They  might  have  been 
a  wall  about  an  undiscovered  country. 

"Come,"  cried  Rotschev,  "we  are  ready  to  start." 
And  Estenega  sprang  to  his  horse. 

"I  don't  envy  you,"  said  the  Princess  Helene  from 
the  verandah,  her  blonde  head  barely  visible  above  the 
furs  that  enveloped  her.  "I  prefer  the  fire." 

'  *  You  are  warmly  clad  ? ' '  asked  Estenega  of  Chonita. 
"But  you  have  the  blood  of  the  South  in  your  veins." 

They  climbed  the  steep  road  between  the  levels,  slow- 
ly, the  women  chattering  and  asking  questions,  the  men 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  363 

explaining  and  advising.  Estenega  and  Chonita,  having 
much  to  say,  said  nothing. 

A  cold  volume  of  air,  the  muffled  roar  of  a  mountain 
torrent,  rushed  out  of  the  forest,  startling  with  the  sud- 
denness of  its  impact.  Once  a  panther  uttered  its  hu- 
man cry. 

They  entered  the  forest.  It  was  so  dark  here  that 
the  horses  wandered  from  the  trail  and  into  the  brush 
again  and  again.  Conversation  ceased ;  save  for  the  muf- 
fled footfalls  of  the  horses  and  the  speech  of  the  waters 
there  was  no  sound.  Chonita  had  never  known  a  still- 
ness so  profound;  the  giant  trees  crowding  together 
seemed  to  resent  intrusion,  to  menace  an  eternal  silence. 
She  moved  her  horse  close  to  Estenega 's  and  he  took  her 
hand.  Occasionally  there  was  an  opening,  a  well  of 
blackness,  for  the  moon  had  not  yet  come  to  the  forest. 

They  reached  the  summit,  and  descended.  Halfway 
down  the  mountain  they  rode  into  a  farm  in  a  valley 
formed  by  one  of  the  many  basins. 

The  Indians  were  waiting,  and  killed  a  bullock  at 
once,  placing  the  carcass  in  a  conspicuous  place.  Then 
all  retired  to  the  shade  of  the  trees.  In  less  than  half 
an  hour  a  bear  came  prowling  out  of  the  forest  and  be- 
gan upon  the  meal  so  considerately  provided  for  him. 
When  his  attention  was  fully  engaged,  Rotschev  and 
the  officers,  mounted,  dashed  down  upon  him,  swinging 
their  lassos.  The  bear  showed  fight  and  stood  his  ground, 
but  this  was  an  occasion  when  the  bear  always  got  the 
worst  of  it.  One  lasso  caught  his  neck,  another  his  hind 
foot,  and  he  was  speedily  strained  and  strangled  to 
death.  No  sooner  was  he  dispatched  than  another  ap- 
peared, then  another,  and  the  sport  grew  very  exciting, 
absorbing  the  attention  of  the  women  as  well  as  the 
energies  of  the  men.  Bancroft  Library 

Estenega  lifted  Chonita  from  her  horse,  ^jet  us 
walk,"  he  said.  "They  will  not  miss  us.  A  few  yards 
farther,  and  you  will  be  on  my  territory.  I  want  you 
there." 

She  made  no  protest,  and  they  entered  the  forest.  The 


364    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

moon  shone  down  through  the  lofty  redwoods  that 
seemed  to  scrape  its  crystal ;  the  monotone  of  the  distant 
sea  blended  with  a  faint  roar  in  the  tree-tops.  The 
vast  gloomy  aisles  were  unbroken  by  other  sound. 

He  took  her  hand  and  held  it  a  moment,  then  drew  it 
through  his  arm.  ''Now  tell  me  all,"  he  said.  "They 
will  be  occupied  for  a  long  while.  The  night  is  ours." 

"I  have  come  here  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you,"  she 
said.  "Ah,  can  /  make  you  tremble?  It  was  impos- 
sible for  me  not  to  tell  you  this ;  I  could  not  rest  in  my 
retreat  without  having  the  last  word  with  you,  without 
having  you  know  me.  And  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I 
have  suffered  horribly;  you  may  care  to  know  that,  for 
no  one  else  in  the  world  could  have  made  me,  no  one  else 
ever  can.  Only  your  fingers  could  twist  in  among  my 
heart-strings  and  tear  my  heart  of  my  body.  I  suf- 
fered first  because  I  doubted  you,  then  because  I  loved 
you,  then  the  torture  of  jealousy  and  the  pangs  of  part- 
ing, then  those  dreadful  three  months  when  I  heard  no 
word.  I  could  not  stay  at  Casa  Grande ;  everything  as- 
sociated with  you  made  my  heart  shake  my  body.  Oh, 
I  have  gone  through  all  varieties!  But  the  last  was 
the  worst,  after  I  heard  from  you  again,  and  all  other 
causes  were  removed,  and  I  knew  that  you  were  well 
and  still  loved  me :  the  knowledge  that  I  never  could  be 
anything  to  you — and  I  could  be  so  much !  The  torment 
of  this  knowledge  was  so  bitter  that  there  was  but  one 
refuge — imagination.  I  shut  my  eyes  to  my  little  world 
and  lived  with  you ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  grew  into 
absolute  knowledge  of  you.  Let  me  tell  you  what  I 
divined.  You  may  tell  me  that  I  am  wrong,  but  I  do 
not  believe  that  you  will.  I  think  that  in  the  little  time 
we  were  together  I  absorbed  you. 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  your  soul  reached  always  for 
something  just  above  the  attainable,  restless  in  the  mo- 
ments which  would  satisfy  another,  fretted  with  a  per- 
verse desire  for  something  different  when  an  ardent  wish 
was  granted,  steeped,  under  all  wanton  determined  en- 
joyment of  life,  with  the  bitter  knowing  of  life's  sure 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  365 

impotence  to  satisfy.  Could  the  dissatisfied  darting 
mind  loiter  long  enough  to  give  a  woman  more  than  the 
promise  of  happiness? — but  never  mind  that. 

''With  this  knowledge  of  you  my  own  restless  desire 
for  variety  left  me;  my  nature  concentrated  into  one 
paramount  wish — to  be  all  things  to  you.  What  I  had 
felt  vaguely  before  and  stifled — the  nothingness  of  life, 
the  inevitableness  of  satiety — I  repudiated  utterly,  now 
that  they  were  personified  in  you;  I  would  not  recog- 
nize the  fact  of  their  existence.  I  could  make  you  happy. 
How  could  imagination  shape  such  scenes,  such  perfec- 
tion of  union,  of  companionship,  if  reality  were  not? 
I  might  exaggerate;  but,  even  stripped  of  its  halo,  the 
substance  must  be  sweeter  and  more  fulfilling  than  any- 
thing else  on  this  earth  at  least.  And  I  knew  that  you 
loved  me.  Oh,  I  had  felt  that !  And  the  variousness  of 
your  nature  and  desires,  although  they  might  madden 
me  at  times,  would  give  an  extraordinary  zest  to  life. 
I  was  the  Doomswoman  no  longer.  I  was  a  supplemen- 
tary being  who  could  meet  you  in  every  mood  and  com- 
plete it;  who  would  so  understand  that  I  could  be  man 
and  woman  and  friend  to  you.  A  delusion?  But  so 
long  as  I  shall  never  know,  let  me  believe.  An  extraor- 
dinary tumultuous  desire  that  rose  in  me  like  a  wave 
and  shook  me  often  at  first,  had,  in  those  last  sad  weeks, 
less  part  in  my  musings.  It  seemed  to  me  that  that  was 
the  expression,  the  poignant  essence,  of  love;  but  there 
was  so  much  else!  I  do  not  understand  that,  however, 
and  never  shall.  But  I  wanted  to  tell  you  all.  I  could 
not  rest  until  you  knew  me  as  I  am  and  as  you  had 
made  me.  And  I  will  tell  you  this  too,"  she  cried, 
breaking  suddenly,  "I  wanted  you  so!  Oh,  I  needed 
you  so !  It  was  not  I,  only,  who  could  give.  And  it  is 
so  terrible  for  a  woman  to  stand  alone ! ' ' 

He  made  no  reply  for  a  moment.  But  he  forgot  every 
other  interest  and  scheme  and  idea  stored  in  his  impa- 
tient brain.  He  was  thrilled  to  his  soul,  and  filled  with 
the  exultant  sense  that  he  was  about  to  take  to  his  heart 


366    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

the  woman  compounded  for  him  out  of  his  own  elements. 

11  Speak  to  me,"  she  said. 

"My  love,  I  have  so  much  to  say  to  you  that  it  will 
take  all  the  years  we  shall  spend  together  to  say  it  in." 

"No,  no!  Do  not  speak  of  that.  There  I  am  firm. 
Although  the  misery  of  the  past  months  were  to  be  mul- 
tiplied ten  hundred  times  in  the  future,  I  would  not 
marry  you." 

Estenega,  knowing  that  their  hour  of  destiny  was 
come,  and  that  upon  him  alone  depended  its  issues,  was 
not  the  man  to  hesitate  between  such  happiness  as  this 
woman  alone  could  give  him,  and  the  gray  existence 
which  she  in  her  blindness  would  have  meted  to  both; 
his  bold  will  had  already  taken  the  future  in  its  relent- 
less grasp.  But,  knowing  the  mental  habit  of  women, 
he  thought  it  best  to  let  Chonita  free  her  mind,  that  there 
might  be  the  less  in  it  to  protest  for  hearing  when  his 
heart  and  passion  spoke  to  hers. 

' '  It  seems  absurd  to  argue  the  matter, ' '  he  said,  ' '  but 
tell  me  the  reasons  again,  if  you  choose,  and  we  will 
dispose  of  them  once  for  all.  Do  not  think  for  a  mo- 
ment, my  darling,  that  I  do  not  respect  your  reasons; 
but  I  respect  them  only  because  they  are  yours;  in 
themselves  they  are  not  worthy  of  consideration." 

' '  Ay,  but  they  are.  It  has  been  an  unwritten  law  for 
three  generations  that  an  Estenega  and  an  Iturbi  y 
Moncada  should  not  marry;  the  enmity  began,  as  you 
should  know,  when  a  member  of  each  family  was  an 
officer  in  a  detachment  of  troops  sent  to  protect  the 
Missions  in  their  building.  And  my  father — he  told  me 
lately — loved  your  father's  sister  for  many  years — that 
was  the  reason  he  married  so  late  in  life — and  would  not 
ask  her  because  of  her  blood,  and  of  cruel  wrongs  her 
father  had  done  his.  Shall  his  daughter  be  weak  where 
he  was  strong  ?  You  cast  aside  traditions  as  if  they  were 
the  seeds  of  an  apple ;  but  remember  that  they  are  blood 
of  my  blood.  And  the  vow  I  made — do  you  forget  that  ? 
And  the  words  of  it  ?  The  Church  stands  between  us.  I 
will  tell  you  all.  The  priest  has  forbidden  me  to  marry 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  367 

you;  he  forbade  it  every  time  I  confessed;  not  only  be- 
cause of  my  vow,  but  because  you  had  aroused  in  me  a 
love  so  terrible  that  I  almost  took  the  life  of  another 
woman.  Could  I  bring  you  back  to  the  Church,  it  might 
be  different;  but  you  rule  others;  no  one  could  remold 
you.  You  see,  it  is  hopeless.  It  is  no  use  to  argue. " 

1 '  I  have  no  intention  of  arguing.  Words  are  too  good 
to  waste  on  such  an  absurd  proposition  that  because  our 
fathers  hated,  we,  who  are  independent  and  intelligent 
beings,  should  not  marry  when  every  drop  of  our  heart's 
blood  demands  its  rights.  As  for  your  vow — what  is  a 
vow?  Hysterical  egotism,  nothing  more.  Were  it  the 
promise  of  man  to  man,  the  subject  would  be  worth  dis- 
cussing. But  we  will  settle  the  matter  in  our  own  way. ' ' 
He  took  her  suddenly  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  She 
put  her  arms  about  him  and  clung  to  him,  trembling, 
her  lips  pressed  to  his.  In  that  supreme  moment  he  felt 
not  happiness,  but  a  bitter  desire  to  bear  her  out  of  the 
world  into  some  higher  sphere  where  the  conditions  of 
happiness  might  possibly  exist.  "On  the  highest  pin- 
nacle we  reach,"  he  thought,  "we  are  granted  the  tor- 
menting and  chastening  glimpse  of  what  might  be,  had 
God,  when  He  compounded  His  victims,  been  in  a  gen- 
erous mood  and  completed  them." 

And  she?  she  was  a  woman. 

"You  will  resist  no  longer,"  he  said,  in  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

"Ay,  more  surely  than  ever  now."  Her  voice  was 
faint,  but  crossed  by  a  note  of  terror.  "In  that  mo- 
ment I  forgot  my  religion  and  my  duty.  And  what  is 
so  sweet — it  cannot  be  right." 

"Do  you  so  despise  your  womanhood,  the  most  per- 
fect thing  about  you  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  let  us  return!  I  wanted  to  kiss  you  once.  I 

meant  to  do  that.  But  I  should  not Let  us  go! 

Oh,  I  love  you  so !  I  love  you  so ! " 

He  drew  her  closer  and  kissed  her  until  her  head  fell 
forward  and  her  body  grew  heavy.  "I  shall  think  and 
act  now,  for  both,"  he  said  unsteadily,  although  there 


368    BEFORE  THE  GRINGO  CAME 

was  no  lack  of  decision  in  his  voice.  "You  are  mine. 
I  claim  you,  and  I  shall  run  no  further  risk  of  losing 
you.  Oh,  you  will  forgive  me — my  love " 

Neither  saw  a  man  walking  rapidly  up  the  trail. 
Suddenly  the  man  gave  a  bound  and  ran  toward  them. 
It  was  Beinaldo. 

"Ah,  I  have  found  you!"  he  cried.  "Listen,  Don 
Diego  Estenega,  lord  of  the  North,  American,  and 
would-be  dictator  of  the  Californias.  Two  hours  ago  I 
dispatched  a  vaquero  with  a  circular  letter  to  the  priests 
of  the  Department  of  the  Californias,  warning  them 
each  and  all  to  write  at  once  to  the  Archbishop  of  Mex- 
ico, and  protest  that  the  success  of  your  ambitions  would 
mean  the  downfall  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  California, 
and  telling  them  your  schemes.  You  are  mighty,  O  Don 
Diego  Estenega,  but  you  are  powerless  against  the  en- 
mity of  the  Church.  They  are  mightier  than  you,  and 
you  will  never  rule  in  California.  Unhand  my  sister! 
You  shall  not  have  her,  either.  You  shall  have  noth- 
ing. Will  you  unhand  her?"  he  cried,  enraged  at 
Estenega 's  cold  reception  of  his  damnatory  news. 
"You  should  not  have  her  if  I  tore  your  heart  from 
your  body." 

Estenega  looked  contemptuously  across  Chonita's 
shoulder,  although  his  heart  was  lead  within  him.  ' '  The 
last  resource  of  the  mean  and  down-trodden  is  revenge, ' ' 
he  said.  "  Go !  To-morrow  I  shall  horsewhip  you  in  the 
court-yard  of  Fort  Koss." 

Keinaldo,  hot  with  excitement  and  thirst  for  further 
vengeance,  uttered  a  shriek  of  rage  and  sprang  upon 
him.  Estenega  saw  the  gleam  of  a  knife,  and  flung  Cho- 
nita  aside,  catching  the  driving  arm,  the  fury  of  his 
heart  in  his  muscles.  Reinaldo  had  the  soft  muscles  of 
the  caballero,  and  panted  and  writhed  in  the  iron  grasp 
of  the  man  who  forgot  that  he  grappled  with  the  brother 
of  a  woman  passionately  loved,  remembered  only  that 
he  rejoiced  to  fight  to  the  death  the  man  who  had  ruined 
his  life.  Keinaldo  tried  to  thrust  the  knife  into  his 
back;  Estenega  suddenly  threw  his  weight  on  the  arm 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN  369 

that  held  it,  nearly  wrenching  it  from  its  socket,  snatched 
the  knife,  and  drove  it  to  the  heart  of  his  enemy. 

Then  the  hot  blood  in  his  body  turned  cold.  He  stood 
like  a  stone  regarding  Chonita,  whose  eyes,  fixed  upon 
him,  were  expanded  with  horror.  Between  them  lay  the 
dead  body  of  her  brother. 

He  turned  with  a  groan  and  sat  down  on  a  fallen  log, 
supporting  his  chin  with  his  hand.  His  profile  looked 
grim  and  worn  and  old.  He  stared  unseeingly  at  the 
ground.  Chonita  stood,  still  looking  at  him.  The  last 
act  of  her  brother's  life  had  been  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  her  lover 's  ruin ;  his  death  had  completed  it ;  all  the 
South  would  rise  did  the  slayer  of  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada 
seek  to  rule  it.  She  felt  vaguely  sorry  for  Reinaldo; 
but  death  was  peace ;  this  was  hell  in  living  veins.  The 
memory  of  the  world  beyond  the  forest  grew  indistinct. 
She  recalled  her  dream  and  turned  in  loathing  from 
the  bloodless  selfishness  of  which  it  was  the  allegory. 
Superstition  and  tradition  slipped  into  some  inner  pocket 
of  her  memory,  there  to  rattle  their  dry  bones  together 
and  fall  to  dust.  She  saw  only  the  figure,  relaxed  for 
the  first  time,  the  profile  of  a  man  with  his  head  on  the 
block.  She  stepped  across  the  body  of  her  brother,  and, 
kneeling  beside  Estenega,  drew  his  head  to  her  breast. 


THE  END 


